Lothario's Maiden
by jennyxbc
Summary: What need has an English Prince of a French virgin? CB Tudors!
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Gossip Girl. Hope you enjoy my take on GG/Tudors.

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><p><em><strong>2<strong>__**nd**__** January, 1519**_

"Blair?" Queen Claude of France said persistently, trying to make her younger sister understand their situation. "Are you listening to me?"

Blair turned around and faced her sister. "I'm not marrying him," she said firmly, folding her arms across her chest.

"The English royals have perfectly respectable lineage, if that is the problem." Claude seemed to struggle with this sentence, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

"Sister, you hate the English," Blair replied pointedly, raising an eyebrow. "Why on earth would you want me to marry their crowned prince?"

"Francis wills it," Claude said guility, predicting her sister's anger.

Blair raised an eyebrow. "I shall not marry him, sister. You were forced into marriage by our father and look now! A pregnant belly and an infant son by a man who is too free with his morals," Blair sneered at her older sister, Queen Claude of France. "He has a whore in every manor in the country. How do you bear it? How can you let him come to your bed knowing that he could have had carnal knowledge of any maiden in the court? On my honour, I would not allow it!"

Claude glared at her sister. "It is not your choice. You will go where Francis bids you. _My_ marriage is not your concern."

"Sister," Blair said softly, "_You _are my concern. I see the pain in your heart and the sorrow in your eyes when he shows favour to his whores. He is the devil incarnate!"

"For shame, Blair!" Claude cried. "He is my husband! It is his right as a King to take a mistress."

"He has no _Kingly rights_ at all, for he is only King because of your marriage to him! You could rule in your own right, had you only the will!" Blair argued, folding her arms and staring angrily out of her chamber window.

Claude crossed her heart. "Blair, hear me. He is my husband. It is my duty to love and serve him. If he were a farmer and I a peasant I would love him still. I am glad to have him beside me."

"But he is not beside you," Blair murmured. "You follow his orders like a puppy does its master's. I will not be commanded by him, Claude."

"Blair, you are seventeen years old. Francis is your guardian. Your choice in the matter is irrelevant. You will do as you are bid," Claude repeated, vigour entering her voice. "As Queen of France, it is my will that you marry Charles, Prince of England."

Blair threw her hands up into the air. "Then when you have a daughter, name her Blair and sell _her _soul, rather than mine! I shall not marry him! Even _Francis_ is a gentleman in comparison to _him._"

"You will do as you are bid."

"Francis I, King of France!" one of the guards at the entrance to Blair's chamber cried, and Blair and Claude curtsied for their King.

Francis spied them and grinned. "Ah, my two favourite ladies!"

Blair looked at him pitifully. "_Dear_ brother."

"Husband," Claude purred, her dark eyes looking up at him from under her lashes. "I was informing Blair of our English plans for her."

"And I was informing my darling sister that I shall not be pushed into marrying Charles, prince or not!"

Francis' face flushed. "Blair..."

"The Prince of Wales has no morals," Blair said flatly. "He beds whores on a daily basis."

"I care not for his morals, Blair."

"Then what?" Blair said, her eyes flashing. "You would have me marry a man I did not love?"

"Love has nothing to do with it," Francis snapped. "Do you think I married your sister for love? It was her dowry, not her heart that made my father consider her."

"What a romantic you are, Husband," Claude muttered wryly, rolling her eyes in an effort to mask the hurt she felt.

"Non, my sweet Claude. I simply meant that I _grew_ to love you. As young Blair here will her new husband." Francis and Blair stared at eachother, anger and contempt in her eyes and amusement in his. Blair knew she couldn't win. And so she dropped her eyes and sighed.

"Very well," she said softly.

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><p><em><strong>4<strong>__**th**__** January 1519**_

Charles, Prince of Wales, glared at his father as angrily as he dared. "But, Father..."

"You _will_ marry her, Charles. A French alliance is in our interests. And look at Francis now! Three years of marriage and already he has one son, and his Queen is again in pup! They are a fertile lot, and you need as many male heirs as a woman can produce."

"I shan't marry her, Father."

Bart's short patience had come to an end and the elder man's voice was shaking with frustration. "She is a young lady of seventeen, Charles, and you are a young man of twenty one. Your mother faced much pain bringing you into this world so that you could be the Prince of our country - do not defile her memory by refusing to do your duty, boy!"

"If you force me to marry her then I will refuse the crown!" Chuck said angrily. "Give it to Andrew! See if a mere boy of fifteen can rule the country! Or give it to Edward, or Phillip! I will not marry her."

"You_ will_ marry her," His father repeated coolly. "And you_ will_ be King - like it or not."

"I have heard rumours that she has black moles on her back and an extra finger on her left hand," Chuck said wildly. "She is a witch and bears marks of the devil! Surely you do not want your grandchildren to be marked by evil?"

King Bartholomew smirked at his sons protests. "If that is your only argument, she will be examined before the betrothal. Her portrait showed no such marks."

"I saw the same portrait, father. I like her not! I shall not marry her. They say she is a heretic and entertains men in her rooms at night!"

The King's face hardened. "Do not say such things about your future wife, Charles. I will not have it in my court." Chuck made to argue, but his father held up a hand to silence him. "She sails for England within a week. If you wish, she will be examined to see if she is intact – though someone with a reputation such as yours is in no position to preach about virtue."

To his credit, Chuck flushed. "Father, is there no English alternative? Perhaps a Duke's daughter? The Earl of Nottingham's daughter, Penelope-"

"No!" King Bart said suddenly. "You will marry the French princess. End of discussion, Charles."

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><p><em><strong>15<strong>__**th**__** January 1519**_

"Tighter," Blair breathed, gasping as her maid pulled the laces of her corset tightly around her torso. When she could breathe in no further, the laces were tied and her dress slipped over her head. "Don't fasten the outer laces so tightly," she mumured.

"Madam?" The maid said quietly, and Blair spun around to face her.

"Yes, Jennifer?" Blair twirled a lock of the girl's blonde hair around a finger, and then tucked it back behind her ear.

"Are you not... _wary_... of Prince Charles' reputation? With women, I mean..." The small girl was nervous and Blair smiled at her.

"My sweet Jenny. You need not worry about me. I shall be wed to him for a year at most, and if all is well, the marriage shall be annulled and I shall return to France a virgin. He will not have me. Not if I can help it."

Jenny gasped. "But, Madam, surely it is your duty as a wife to-"

Blair's sharp glare cut the girl off. "Come, Jennifer. We sail for England within the hour." She said this distastefully with a wrinkle in her nose, as if the thought of England had the same effect as that of a bad smell under the nostrils.

There was a soft knock on the door, and a breathtaking smile broke out from Blair's red lips. "Louis!" She dismissed her maid and beckoned her to close the door after she had left the room. As the door closed, Louis took Blair's face between his hands and placed a passionate kiss on her lips.

"I came as soon as I heard, my love," he whispered against her lips.

A warm, treacherous tear slid down Blair's cheek. "They mean to wed me to an English prince. I fear that I must go. My will does not matter."

Louis sighed and Blair pressed her face against his neck. "My sweet Blair..."

Blair tilted her face up and feverishly pressed her lips to his, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Louis' hands fell to the laces on the back of Blair's dress and she made no move to stop him. "He cannot have it," she mumbled against his skin, "_He_ will not have it."

Louis lifted Blair's skirts and moved her so she was straddling his lap.

"Do it," she whispered, "Please."

The man looked at her, deep in the eyes. "Do you really want this?"

"I don't know," Blair said softly. "I will not sacrifice my innocence to a man who is as sinful as he. I give this gift to you."

"I cannot recieve something that is given out of spite," Louis said sadly, placing a final kiss on her cheek before moving her from his lap. He stood and adjusted himself. "I care for you, my Lady, much more than my rank allows me to. I love you, Blair. Say that you love me too and I shall do as you ask."

Blair struggled to her feet and straightened her dress. She looked at him, her expression hard to read. "I cannot give you what you seek, Sir Louis. You have a wife, and four children. I am to be wed in another country. I cannot give you my love, Sir Louis."

Louis glared at her, forgetting his place. "I do not think you are capable of love," he said cruelly. "You have teased me for months, dangled your virtue before my eyes and now you claim that you feel nothing for me!"

"Know your place, knight," Blair said stonily, her voice sharp and cutting. "Get out. Get out _now."_

"As you wish, your Highness." Louis bobbed a shallow bow and frowned, then left her alone in her chamber.

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><p><em><strong>27<strong>__**th**__** January 1519**_

"He wishes me to marry, Nathaniel. _Me._ He wishes _me _to be a _husband. _Have you ever heard something so ludicrous?" Chuck lounged on a blanket on the ground wrapped in thick furs under a tree in the grounds of Richmond Place, the castle standing dark and majestic against the bright January afternoon.

Nathaniel smirked. "I don't think I've ever known you to be faithful to a _mistress_, Chuck. Why your father thinks that you are capable of being loyal to a wife, I do not know."

"Look at her!" Lord Carter said admiringly. "Look at how she handles herself!"

Chuck glanced over to where Carter was pointing and shrugged, his expression hardening. "They are _her_ new ladies. Blast that woman!"

"It's not all bad, Chuck." A small voice spoke up from behind the tree.

It belonged to Chuck's thirteen year old half-sister, Princess Serena. After his mother had died during the birthing of his younger brother, King Bart had married his maîtresse-en-titre, the Dowager Duchess of Cornwall. Serena had been the first product of their marriage, and whilst her mother, Lillian, had not been made Queen, she was referred to as 'Majesty' out of curtesy.

Bart's marriage to Lillian had been a fortuitous union: a daughter after year of marriage (Serena) now thirteen, then another son (Henry) who had died before his first birthday from measles, twin girls (Anne and Jane) two years later, now four, another son (Edward) a year later, who was now three, and then the arrival of baby Phillip just over a year ago. (It was rumoured that Lily was again pregnant, her youth and Bart's vitality for life apparently making a potent genetical mix).

All the males under the tree, save Chuck and his younger brother Andrew, the Duke of York, turned to gaze at the beautiful Serena. "Hello," she said shyly, blushing as she sat down in between her two half brothers.

Chuck sighed. "How is it not 'all bad', sister? Pray tell."

"I get another sister," Serena replied with a happy smile. "It's so _boring_ having only brothers."

"Princess Anne and Princess Jane are in the nursery," Chuck said bemusedly, raising an eyebrow."You have two sisters - what need have you of another?"

"Annie and Jane are too _young_. I can't talk to them about pretty clothes or dancing. I can't wait for Princess Blair to marry you!"

"I can understand that," Prince Andrew spoke up. "It's not like you or I would talk to Edward or Phillip about cards or jousting, Chuck."

Chuck grunted in reply, and Nathaniel grinned. "It seems that your brother has lost his tongue, your Highness," he said to Serena.

"Say, Serena?" Carter asked bashfully, avoiding the eyes of the princess. "That lady, over there? Do you know her name?"

"Her name is Georgina, Carter," Serena replied with a wry smile. A sound of trumpets make Serena leap to her feet as fast as a lamb in springtime. "Come, my dear brothers. Blair's ship has made port and our parents summon us to greet her!"

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><p><strong>Well? What d'you think? My first attempt at any kind of historical fanfiction. Reviews would be loved, thank you!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok - what a response! I never expected that... You guys are amazing :)**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter... **

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><p><em><strong>27<strong>__**th**__** January 1519**_

The dark-haired French princess gazed out of the glassed window of her cabin, fighting an excited smile at the prospect of meeting the family of her betrothed. Her marriage to the English crowned prince was unfortunate at best, but there was no need to forsake an opportunity to learn about the culture of another country because of one man.

She stared at the deceptive English sea, a jewelled mass of liquid turquoise in the cold afternoon sun., but the waves were rough and the shoreline beneath the towering white cliffs was rocky and ominous, no doubt a watery grave for many an unfortunate sailor. According to her ship's captain, wrecks of ships littered the English coast, though Blair could see none from their current position, sailing in deep waters close to the mouth of the Thames.

What a time to cross the sea! Only her brother-in-law was arrogant enough to insist that her crossing to England be in January, when the seas were at their most dangerous. True enough – his confidence in French sailors was very well earned – Blair had arrived in England safely.

"Sister, we are here," Marguerite of Navarre said to her sister in law, squeezing her hand when Blair sighed sadly.

A gull landed on a wooden post as the ship made port; a dead fish gripped its thin orange beak. The bird's beady black eyes fixed onto Blair's, and she shivered and looked away.

"Does it hurt?" Blair replied quietly, "The wedding night?"

Marguerite made a face. "A little."

Blair closed her eyes. "The last time I saw Charles was six years ago. He has never written to me, though his father sent me gifts for Christmastide every year on his behalf. How can I marry a stranger? How can I _love_ a stranger?"

"We should summon the maids," Marguerite replied, not answering Blair's question because really, what answer was there to give? There was nothing that either of them could do to change her fate.

...

Blair dressed warmly, covering her purple gown with a coat of fur to protect her lithe body from the punishing English winds.

"Must you wear purple, Blair?" Marguerite asked disapprovingly at her choice of gown, "You are not royalty in this country. It may be seen as an insult."

"If the English King has his way, I shall be the Queen of his son. My father was the King of France and now my sister is the Queen, your brother is her King. Do not forget that we are _both _princesses, Marguerite. We are entitled to wear whatever colour we choose," was her haughty reply.

Marguerite rolled her eyes and linked her arm through Blair's. "Come, sister. Your new family awaits you."

Chuck scowled as his manservant adjusted the crown on his head. "I could do that myself," he muttered.

"Yes, your Highness," the servant mumbled.

"You can leave now," Chuck replied.

Serena raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. "You're nervous," she teased, poking Chuck in the chest.

"I am not. Why would I be nervous? It's not like I've never seen her before. I know what she looks like."

"Well _I _don't," Serena whined. "Is she pretty? I'll bet she's beautiful, like Queen Evangeline. I want a portrait of her in my chamber, but mother says it is inappropriate since I never met her. I hope I'm as good a Queen as she was."

Chuck's face reddened at the mention of his late mother's name. "Nobody is as beautiful as my mother, Serena."

Serena beamed at him. "Aw! I've never heard you say something so nice."

Prince Andrew looked up from his book. "That's not true. Remember when he said Lady Clementine had the prettiest and most perfect breasts he'd ever seen? I thought that was rather nice. True too."

Chuck smirked at his brother. "I've never seen a pair quite like hers. Large, round, milky white, with buds that were as hard and red as-"

"Please stop," Serena said with a groan, "This conversation is disgusting. And exactly the reason why I am so excited for Blair to get here, so that I don't have to hear you two describe your conquests in detail. And Chuck," Serena smiled a sweet little smile, "If her breasts were as you say, she was probably pregnant."

Chuck went pale and Andrew barked out a laugh.

Blair looked down at her feet and grimaced. She was officially on English soil. Marguerite's laugh distracted her from her self-pity and she glanced around, taking in the country that one day would be hers.

"Blair? Is something wrong?" Marguerite asked her quietly, rubbing her thumb over the back of Blair's hand.

"I miss home already," Blair breathed, "I miss my brothers. When will I see Claude and baby Eduoard again?"

Marguerite smiled sadly. "I sometimes forget how young you are, sister. I am sure your husband will allow you to visit once you have borne him a child, do not fear."

"But... that could be a year away!" the younger girl said in alarm. "Not a week has passed since I was born when I have not seen Claude. I miss her terribly already."

"Enough talk of home now, Blair. You must think of your new life, not your old one."

Blair mumbled her agreement and tugged on the skirt of her dress so that it fell more alluringly around her legs. She did not want to marry the English prince, but an inner part of her needed to be assured that her husband-to-be would at least desire her physically, if not for her mind. "Marguerite?" She whispered, "How is my hair?"

"You look beautiful, my dear Blair," Marguerite replied quietly. "Now smile and look as if you are the happiest creature that God ever created."

...

Lillian placed a hand on Chuck's arm. "Are you ready to meet your bride, Charles?"

Lily's gentle voice soothed his nerves and Chuck shrugged and stared at his feet – refusing to look for the face of his future wife - as the French procession made its way towards the palace. "I don't know. My mind is at war with itself."

"She's very beautiful," Serena murmured in awe, her arm linked through Bart's and Lily's as they stood on the balcony, secretly watching the procession where they were out of sight and could not steal the woman's limelight.

"Why does she ride alone, Mama?" Little Jane asked, tugging on her mother's skirt insistently.

"She should have a man to hold on to!" Anne said decisively. "It is very lucky that she is getting married."

"Yes," Jane agreed, "Or she may fall off!"

"Like 'Rena did!" three year old Edward added from his Father's arms. Serena blushed and Andrew hid a laugh with a cough. Lily and Bart exchanged a knowing smile at their children's conversation, whilst baby Phillip was hypnotized by the pretty colours in the procession and kept thrusting his little body away from his mother's arms in order to reach for them.

Lily made a face as her youngest son's foot kicked her lightly in the stomach. A kick from the inside answered it and Lily pressed her spare hand to the spot. "Serena? Will you hold him? I don't want him to hurt-"

She trailed off and flushed when Andrew and Serena finished her sentence. "... The baby," the two chorused.

Serena held open her arms and Phillip willingly wrapped his arms around his sister's neck, patting her cheek happily. "Rena!" He lisped, beaming his three-toothed smile when his siblings grinned at him. ('Rena' had been all five of Serena's siblings' first word, closely followed by 'Arles' – short for Charles, and 'Andoo').

"I hope I have your luck, Mother," Serena said cheerfully, leaning her head on her mother's shoulder. "You have such a lovely figure, even after six babies."

"I'm sure you do, Serena," Lily replied quietly. "Quiet now: this is Charles' day."

"Look at her dress, Mama!" Jane clamoured, "Look! She matches us!"

"Why is she wearing purple, Papa?" Anne asked her father.

At this, Chuck looked up, his glowering face searching for Blair's. "She's wearing _purple?_ The nerve of her!"

Lily smiled. "She is a princess twice in her own right, Charles. Be still."

"I can't even see her," Chuck said dismissively, smirking when Andrew grinned at him.

"Enough!" Bart said suddenly. "That is _enough_. Charles – I will not tell you again. She is your bride."

And it was then that Chuck saw her. Her dark hair plaited and twisted into a knot at the base of her head, stray mahogany tendrils that had escaped her thin headband of pearls framed her angular face.

Her eyes – those eyes! – expressive dark pools hidden beneath a thick fringe of black lashes. Skin made from white silk, stretched gently over her features. Red lips held in a dismissive pout, but a smirk danced around their edges.

She rode alone, her purple gown standing out against the pure white of her horse. (The horse itself was a French pedigree - a tall mare with a gold bridle and a thick tail of soft white hair - just one of the ten Blair had brought as a gift to the English royals.) A thick, fur coat covered her arms and the back of the horse. The gown was in the French style, but a brooch joined the decidely English fur coat and her French dress together, pulling her in at the waist and showing her curves. From a glance at his father's face, Chuck saw how pleased he was with the brooch.

It was the Tudor rose – it's petals made from gleaming rubies and pearls, and in the middle, a gold Fleur-de-lis, symbolising the union of England and France.

Around her neck hung a thin gold chain, the pendant dipping into the crevice between her breasts and so was hidden from view.

The little girl he had first encountered had grown into quite the young woman – breasts that pressed against the tight square cut of the bodice of her dress, her figure showing despite the layers of fabric separating Chuck's penetrating gaze from the ivory planes of her skin. From his place on the balcony, he felt his heartbeat become fast and his breaths shortened as he saw the bareness of the nape of Blair's neck. He felt himself grow stiff with longing and desire, his loins burning as he gazed lustily at the woman he would marry.

She was beautiful – no, _breathtaking_ – and Chuck hated her, _despised_ her for it, for her beauty only made his situation harder! Had she been truly plain, he would have argued that he was not physically able to consummate their marriage, but he could not use that excuse now. He would _definitely_ be able _and_ willing.

Blair smiled as the English people threw down flowers in front of her horse.

"Bless you, Princess," the men called, taking off their hat and bowing lowly as she passed them, the women gasping at her beauty and curtseying to the woman who would one day, God willing, become their Queen.

She glanced up at the gates of the grand Palace and took a deep breath when they were opened in a grand ceremony of cannon fire and the raising of the English flag. There they were – the King, his wife, and their brood of royal children, her future husband among them.

Her eyes refused to see him clearly, but the crown atop his head was enough to reveal his place amongst his siblings.

There _he_ was. Charles, Prince of Wales, Crowned Prince of England. The man she would marry in a matter of weeks. His eyes fell on her and she lowered her own from his face, wary of the anger she would see in his own.

They were not friends, their first meeting had seen to that.

"_Blair, this is Charles. You'll marry him one day_," _Her father the King of France had said to her gently, ushering her towards the boy with the dark eyes and arrogant manner so that he could converse with King Bart, his new 'ally'. "Say hello."_

"_No," Blair had replied stubbornly. She turned her attention to him. "I don't like the English and I don't like boys." She spoke in Latin, the one language she knew her father was weakest in. Chuck's stepmother's eyes had widened but she said nothing. _

"_I don't like you either!" Chuck's fourteen-year-old self spat quietly back at her so that their parents wouldn't hear them rowing. "You're French! I'd rather marry a horse than a Frenchwoman."_

"_I'd rather become a nun than marry you!" Blair hissed. _

_Chuck snorted at her. "Don't they teach manners in France?"_

"_Don't they teach class in England? Or are they still too busy arguing like petulant children over whose turn it is to be King?" Blair smirked maliciously at him, raising a challenging eyebrow at her newly betrothed. _

_Chuck leered at her. "I wouldn't be surprised if you've learned whores tricks from your maids, even if you are eleven."_

"_You're heinous," Blair said tartly. _

"_I see that you're not denying it," Chuck muttered, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps that will make our marriage more interesting."_

"_I would rather kill myself on the wedding night than consummate anything with you, 'Prince' Charles," Blair scoffed. "Though, the title of 'Prince' is a little generous – did not your father snatch the crown from a dead man?"_

"_Mind your tongue, Blair, I'll have your head on a spike if you speak ill of my father again," Chuck growled at her, and Blair laughed. _

"_Don't tease, Charles. You are in France. The only claim to power your country has here is Calais, little good that it does you." _

_"How dare you!" Chuck said angrily, "You know nothing about my country."_

_"I know enough."_

_"Shut up!" Chuck growled at her, poking her hard in the chest. "Shut up!"_

_Blair's face flushed angrily, and she pushed the boy back, hard, knocking him off of his feet and onto his bottom. She burst into giggles at the image of his lopsided crown and his scuffed boots. "Sorry," she said innocently. Her father raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled at him. "It was an accident, Papa. I tripped."_

_"Get up, Charles." Bart gave his son a withering look. "You're embarassing us. Get up!" He did not offer a hand to his son, but turned his back on him instead. _

_Blair looked at him, pity shining in her eyes. She had not expected his father to be so cruel! She reached out a hand to help him to his feet, but Chuck knocked her hand away with a vicious shove."I don't need your help, Princess," he sneered at her. "Don't touch me. I don't want your filthy French hands on me." _

Blair had prayed for years that the betrothal would fall through after the death of her father, but she had no such luck. Of course hers would be the only betrothal made in childhood that would actually lead to marriage!

_..._

Chuck's lips formed a tight line as Blair was introduced to his family in an informal meeting a few hours before the banquet that evening, wincing when Serena wrapped her in a hug.

"We'll be best friends!" The blonde girl had cried exuberantly, kissing Blair on both cheeks. "I've been so looking forward to meeting you, Blair. You look so beautiful..."

"Serena," Lily said quietly to her daughter, "Let the girl be."

Serena blushed and unwound herself from Blair, but kept hold of her hand. "Yes, Mother."

"Blair – this is Charles," King Bart reached out for Blair's other hand and pressed it into Chuck's palm.

Much to her chagrin, Chuck actually bowed before her and pressed his lips to the back of her hand, breathing in the scent of her skin.

Her eyes found his for the first time – Blair's wary and Chuck's heavily lidded with desire. One look and both they knew. No words were said, nor were any needed. The fire within his eyes was contagious. In the place of deep resentment, passion and intrigue grew, a longing to know the ins and outs of the other. Chuck's molten gaze burned into the depths of her soul, the heat there dissolving all of her rationality. It was consuming.

Every part of her was on fire, every inch covered in flames. It was as if there was nothing but this moment, nothing before or after. But as the clouds of reality exploded, sprinkling every drop of desire, rationality came flooding back, dousing the fires of their curious lust with cold, icy rain.

He dropped her hand as if it had scalded him, breathing deeply and looking away. "Welcome," he said tightly.

Blair's lips twisted into an amused smirk. "The pleasure is all mine, your Highness," she coolly replied – her words were polite, but Chuck detected mocking and sarcasm and his eyes flashed at her. Chuck was amazed at her English - it was almost accent perfect, with only the hint of French to the most trained ear.

Serena grinned. "I knew you'd like her," she nudged Chuck, who glared at her.

"Serena," Bart said sternly, and Serena squeaked in reply and hid behind her mother.

"I'd like you to meet my youngest son, Blair," Lily said to her with a smile. "This is Prince Phillip." Lily gestured to the boy in one of her lady's arms and tears filled Blair's eyes.

"May I hold him?" She asked, and Chuck scoffed.

"Mind he doesn't pull at your necklace," Serena warned happily, cooing at her brother as he was placed in Blair's arms.

"He is a beautiful baby." Blair's voice was soft and it shook. "I have a nephew the same age; Eduoard, though His Highness Prince Phillip is no doubt the sturdier child."

Phillip patted her cheek and smiled at her. He touched her nose and her lips and traced his pointer finger across her forhead. "Pretty," he declared. He brushed her earrings with the back of one of his chubby little hands and then buried his head into her shoulder, smelling the lavender on her skin. "Nice," Phillip said happily. "Philly love Bear."

Blair beamed at the little boy. "Thank you, your Highness." She ran her fingers through the little boy's blonde curls and pressed a kiss to his forehead, and then passed him to Lily. "With your Majesties' permission, I will retire to my chamber. I am weary from my journey and would like to bathe before the banquet."

Bart nodded his approval. "Charles will show you and your ladies to your apartment, your Highness."

"Please... Call me Blair, if only in private. We are to be family." Again, though her words seemed sincere, Chuck sensed that there was something amiss from Blair's sentiment. He glanced at her curiously and she avoided his eyes.

"Indeed we shall, Blair," Lily said with a smile.

...

They walked in a cold silence, neither of them willing to breach the gap of conversation for fear they would insult one another so seriously in front of others that their words would have to be reported.

"Your chambers, my Lady," Chuck said with a smirk, gesturing towards a door.

"Thank you," Blair replied stiffly. She nodded for Marguerite and the other ladies who had accompanied her to go inside and wait for her, and closed the double doors behind them. She spun to face him, her face flushed and her eyes flashing. She spoke in her native tongue, the language soft on her lips. "Do you still hate me?" she asked with a sigh, fiddling with the sleeve of her dress.

"Do _you_ still hate _me_?" Chuck countered in reply, not answering her question and refusing to make himself vulnerable before she did.

Blair sighed and looked away. "I do not want to marry you, Charles. I have been forced into this and I do so only because my sister promised me that I could return to France after a year - once I have borne you a child." She said this with disdain, as if the thought of having a child with him was a horrifying one.

"Once we have a son I shall send you into the country and live as a single man, if that is your wish," Chuck replied harshly, frowning when Blair's eyes hardened.

"That will not happen, my dear Charles. You cannot hide me away in one of your manors and hope I will disappear. I am the daughter a King and the sister of a Queen, not a common whore that you can cast aside when you tire of her. Be well warned - I will not close my eyes and endure. I may be a maid, Charles, but I am well informed in matters of childbearing. I _will_ have your fidelity, or _you_ will have no son."

Chuck blinked stupidly at her, his mouth opening and closing in shock. "You mean to say that-"

"I mean to say that I will not be controlled by any man, be he a King or a God."

"So you _are_ a heretic," Chuck commented, raising his eyebrows.

Blair shrugged her shoulders and placed a hand on her hip. "I pray to the same Lord and Father as you do, Charles, but my Bible is French and I believe that the 'holy men' of the Church abuse their positions of power. I support Reformation in Europe, rather than the authority of the Pope in a King's own country. Would you bow to the beliefs of a man who resides in a Palace in Italy because he says it should be so? Or would you be the Master of your own faith in your own land?"

Chuck did not reply, but his hot gaze made her shiver.

"I am not a weak woman, Prince. I was raised in a court of diplomats and I made sure to listen to what I was taught. If my sources are correct, I share the same beliefs as your mother did, God bless her soul. I shall see you later." She curtsied and sighed and left him standing alone in the corridor outside of her apartments, staring at the spot where her body had been.

"Madam, is this really appropriate?" One of Blair's new, English ladies asked her, gazing at the red dress on Blair's bed as if it denounced the gospels themselves.

Blair raised an eyebrow. "I shall wear what I please."

"But, Madam-" The girl was silenced by a glare from Blair's chief Lady-in-Waiting, a willowy blonde named Jennifer.

"If her Highness wishes to wear the red dress then it is none of your concern, Georgina," Jennifer hissed at her. "Go back to your embroidery."

Blair nodded in approval and gestured for most of the ladies to leave her bedchamber and wait in her presence chamber. She waited until only Jennifer and Elise were present and pulled her white shift over her head, leaving her naked and bare.

Elise wrapped the silk, whalebone corset around the princess, wincing when Blair breathed in and muttered, "Tighter." The laces of the corset were fastened within minutes, and Blair raised her arms above her head so that the two ladies could drop the dress around her body. The dress itself would cause a great scandal - scarlet red silk with a deep v-neck that exposed the crevice between her breasts, strapless and tight on her thin frame. Blair plucked a vial of her 'special shine' from the dresser - grease scented with lavender - and rubbed it into her exposed chest and arms.

Jennifer summoned Georgina back into the bed chamber and Blair snorted when the English woman averted her eyes to avoid looking at Blair. "Her Highness would like you to do her hair."

Blair closed her eyes as her long curls were teased until they shined in a mahogany mane down her bare back. She plucked a gold tiara encrusted with rubys from her chest of jewels and sighed at her reflection in the mirror. "Fetch my ruby earrings, would you Jen?" She asked quietly, frowning at her bare ears.

...

"Well... Don't you look dashing, Charles," Lily said proudly, stroking Chuck's cheek with her thumb. "Your father will be very proud of you."

Chuck grunted in reply, his lip curling as he spied his latest conquest. The girl, a thin, large-breasted and wide-hipped redhead called Anna, winked at him from her position beside the fire. She licked her lips and arched her back in her chair, sticking her breasts out further. Chuck stared at them for what seemed an age, until his father appeared in Lily's apartments to escort her to dinner.

"Will I escort Serena, Father?" Chuck wondered, scratching his chin.

"No," Bart replied immediately, "Andrew will escort Serena. Why on earth would you escort your sister to a banquet that is for the sole purpose of celebrating your engagement to a French Princess?" Bart asked to no-one in particular. "How ridiculous."

The tips of Chuck's ears reddened and Lily squeezed his arm supportively. "Of course, Father. How silly of me."

...

"Her Highness Princess Blair of France, Duchess of Brittany!" The announcer cried, and Blair sighed and plastered on her courtier's smile. All eyes were on her, on the cut of her dress, the rubies that hung at her wrists and her ears.

She curtsied to all those who acknowledged her, thanking them for welcoming her into their 'beautiful country'. After finally making her way to the dais, she looked at Chuck to find him staring at her in the same way he had when she had looked at him for the very first time - it was as if she was his favourite sweet dish, a cake or meringue or a pie - his mouth hung open and his eyes set her skin alight.

...

He wanted to devour her. Wanted to use his tongue to trace the contours of her body from the nape of her neck to the apex of her thighs and leave a wet trail between her breasts. Her audacity in wearing such a revealing dress - but covering her exposed arms and back with a thin coat of black lace. It was as if she meant to tease him, to show him just enough flesh that he would want to mentally strip her of her clothes. She smirked at him, defiance and challenge filling her dark eyes. Chuck winked at her and Blair winked back, unable to help a wide smile spreading itself across her face.

She disliked him a little less for the sole reason that he had complimented her with his eyes - at least this little show of positive emotion from him was better than being under the illusion that her husband-to-be detested her. Blair sat down in the chair beside him, jumping when she felt Chuck's hand on her thigh. She glared at him.

"What are you doing?" She hissed from between her teeth, fighting the urge to close her eyes when his thumb began to rub a persistent circle into her inner thigh.

"Relax," Chuck murmured, his voice rough and gravelly. "Nobody knows but us."

Blair pulled a face and pushed his hand from her leg. "Don't touch what doesn't belong to you, Chuck," she whispered, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

Chuck leaned forward, his breath against her skin making her skin goosepimple. "But you will," he said firmly, "You will belong to me."

A part of Blair's brain was horrified at this - how dare this man, this man who didn't even know her - have any claim on her? But the sinful side of Blair's mind,, the side that wanted to be utterly possessed by a lover, moaned and shivered and longed to scratch her nails up Chuck's back. Blair chose to bite her lip and look away, blushing when Chuck's hand covered hers - on the table this time. She glanced at him to find him watching her intently, and they shared a small smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Well? Did I do their meeting justice? Let me know!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Was planning on diving straight in with C&B's M-rated shenanigans, but then I remembered that C&B were friends first (sort of), and I thought it was important to build up that side of their relationship before they had lots of hot sex.  
>Hope I did okay. Enjoy :)<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>5<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

Blair had been in England for a little over a week, and relations between her and the Prince had marginally improved. She often found herself laughing in his company, genuinely amused by his witty quips and the way he and his companions casually insulted each other. They would share a dance or two at dinner, and often took a drink of wine in her bedchamber before sleep. She still thought him to be arrogant and infuriating, but much more on her side. He did not seem to be an enemy to her anymore, and she found comfort in knowing that she had perhaps developed a friend in him.

Serena frowned at her reflection. There was something missing. Her long blonde hair had been pulled into a French twist, with a few unruly tendrils falling around her face. The Princess blew the strands from her eyes and gazed at her figure.

She was slender, but not to the extent that it was unattractive. She had wide hips and an ample chest to say she was only thirteen and had only started her courses six months previously.

Her skin was pale, but easily browned in the sun, leaving her with a golden glow in the summer months. The dress she wore was a pretty ice blue, bringing out the colour of her eyes. But there was still something missing, and Serena feared it was a man.

And she knew exactly _which_ man she wanted on her arm, though the Lord in question had never paid her a second glance. To him, she was just the silly younger sister of the Prince of England. He was a little younger than both Chuck and Andrew, but his breeding meant that he had been brought up in the royal nursery with both of them. His longish brown hair fell alluringly in his beautiful blue eyes, and Serena thought of his smile as a 'mermaid smile' – her father had often delighted her with tales of shipmen on the high seas, becoming entranced with beautiful mermaids that bathed themselves in shallow waters, beckoning sailors into the water with them.

Of course, the men were drowned, but the tale itself was still one of her favourites.

How she would _love_ to marry a man such as him. She knew from Chuck that he wasn't into whoring, as the others were. He was a _gentleman_. And she was head over heels in love with him. She even had her own _name_ for him. _Nate._

Finally, Serena gave up her thoughts of her unattainable man and sighed. She shrugged her shoulders and decided to pay her new sister a visit.

...

Blair sat by the fire in her chamber, Marguerite beside her, both of them studying books in their laps. Whilst Marguerite read a novel, a bawdy romance that could bring a blush to even a sailor's cheeks, Blair was absorbing the words of Martin Luther, a known reformer of the Church.

To possess such a book was considered heresy, and one risked being burned at the stake if they wished to read it, but it spoke the truth. The clergy was corrupt: some priests did take money from the purses of those in their parishes, some had mistresses and even children – Blair could not help but think of Cardinal Wolsey, the butcher's dog who sat beside the King and whispered poison in his ear. There had been rumours that the insufferable man had French interests and even accepted a pension from Francis for information and support, but Blair knew differently. The Cardinal wanted to become the next Pope, and so favoured the Spanish over all other nations.

No: reformation was as needed in England as it was in France, and if Wolsey stood in the way of progress, he would have to be dealt with.

...

"So what do you think of her, Chuck?" Nathaniel asked him lazily, lolling back into his chair as he threw down his hand of cards. "Has your opinion of her changed over this past week?"

Chuck shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."

Carter, Nathaniel and Andrew glanced at one another. "Chuck likes a girl!" Andrew said gleefully, throwing an arm around his brother's shoulders. "You like her! Admit it!"

Chuck shoved Andrew's arm off of him and stood up. "I do not. She is French. I can't stand to look at the woman. How I am supposed to marry and bed her is beyond me," he lied, avoiding the eyes of his companions.

"I think she is beautiful," Carter sighed dreamily, picking the petals from a flower.

Chuck scowled at him. "Do not aim to covet what is mine, sir. You will find your road blocked by Cerberus himself."

"So you _do_ like her!" Nathaniel crowed, clapping Chuck on the back.

"She is to be my wife. I will not have her reputation tarnished by anyone, even if I do not care for her. I shall not be accused of marrying a whore."

"She's hardly a whore. She's a French princess," Andrew remarked, blowing a piece of dust from his hand.

"Don't you have any reading to do?" Chuck asked his younger brother, eying him disdainfully. "You seem to be spending an awful lot of time with these cretins." He gestured to his friends. "Father is quite unhappy about it."

Andrew looked up at the sun that was shining through the window, trying to work out the time. "Chuck! Didn't Father summon you to meet him at midday?"

Chuck shrugged. "Yes." Then, looking at the sun, he leapt to his feet. "I seem to find myself late." And then, without another word, he took off towards his Father's room, full pelt.

"Serena, you cannot walk in the gardens like that, you'll catch your death of cold," Blair chided, tossing the Princess one of her own fur coats. "Wear that – it'll keep you warm."

"Perhaps we should ask Chuck to join us," Serena suggested with a smile, "You must be eager to get to know him more."

Blair considered this and then nodded. "If you wish your brother to join us then I suppose he must."

"Then come," Serena said, "Let us fetch him!"

They eventually found Chuck sitting with his father, Wolsey, the Duke of Norfolk and the Duke of Buckinghamshire.

"Chuck! Come and join us for a walk," Serena demanded, smiling at her elder brother.

Blair was surprised when Bart told his eldest daughter to be silent, and she glanced at Chuck, wondering if something was the matter. His eyes met hers for a moment and she tilted her head. "Are you well?" She mouthed, and he shook his head. "Can I help?"

Chuck's eyes brightened and he smirked. "Father... Perhaps Blair should join us. It is my wish that my future Queen have much knowledge of the country, in case she should need to act in my absence."

Bart shrugged and Blair eyed Chuck curiously as he gestured for another chair to be brought to the table and placed beside him, and the Prince himself stood up and tucked Blair's chair in for her as she sat down.

"Andrew is under our tree, Serena," Chuck said kindly to his younger sister, tossing her a sweetmeat from the bowl on the table.

"And Marguerite is still in my chamber," Blair added supportively, pleading with her with her eyes to do as she asked. "I promise we'll walk later." Much to his shock, Chuck's sister groaned and left the men (and Blair) to their meeting, as Blair had asked her.

Chuck turned back to Blair and she smiled at him, a real, genuine smile, with none of the boundaries or hidden meanings that some of their previous exchanges had had. "Thank you," she whispered, lowly enough so that only he could hear.

"You said you were raised in a court of diplomats," Chuck replied easily. "Put your knowledge into practice."

...

"Forgive me, your Majesty," Blair ventured, biting her lip. "But perhaps that policy is a little harsh?"

The Cardinal glared at the Princess who dared to question his ideas, but Bart seemed intrigued. "How so?"

"With your permission?"

"Of course." Bart gestured for her to continue, and Chuck was awestruck. His father would never hear criticisms of Wolsey from anyone, not even Lily, or his sons.

"Well... if you raise the taxes in that area, you are putting those nobles at risk of revolt because those people will see no return for their money. Would it not be more appropriate to tax the rich, rather than the poor?"

Wolsey began to laugh, and the Duke of Norfolk looked between the Princess and the Cardinal as if he was watching a dance. "You mean to tax the nobles rather than the peasants? How is that beneficial for anyone?"

Blair raised an eyebrow. "The peasants do not know where their money is going. To raise the taxes of the common people is to risk those people rising against authority. I suggest taxing those who can afford it because they will be intelligent enough to understand how their money will be used, and will be less likely to object, because of the great respect they have for his Majesty." Her voice was polite but her tone was cool, and Chuck smirked.

"And, if you tax the rich, you can take more money," he offered, and his father nodded, considering this.

"Do you mean to suggest, your Highness, that the 'common people' have no respect for the King?" Wolsey pressed her, hoping to get the King back on his side.

Blair shook her head and smiled. "Of course not, your Eminence. I was merely speaking for them. The English Nobility have regular contact with their King – they visit court, and they play host when his Majesty goes on progress during the summer months, whereas the men who work the fields have little contact with the Royal family, and so are more likely to turn treasonous if push came to shove. For example, when my Father died and the crown passed to my sister's husband, the common people were outraged because they did not know him. But Francis lowered taxes and built useful things, like monasteries in those parishes that needed them, and they grew to love him."

"What is your point?" Wolsey asked her in exasperation, and Blair blushed, and ignored him, looking instead at the King.

"Forgive me, your Majesty, I got a little carried away." She smiled at Bart and he nodded back at her, patting her hand on the table.

"Please, continue," he replied, gesturing for her to go on.

"I think it would be beneficial for you, as the King, and for Charles as the future reigning monarch, to give the people a return for their money."

Wolsey scoffed at her. "My dear girl, you are still a child. You know nothing of running a country. The people benefit from every decision his Majesty makes."

"Pardon me if I am wrong, your Eminence, but I fail to see how the people will benefit from the refurbishments of York Place? Did you not raise taxes in your area for that?"

Chuck had to mask a laugh as a cough as the Cardinal flushed. "Well... yes, but..."

All of the people around the table jumped when the King smashed his fist down on the table, causing the goblets to rattle. "Heavens, Wolsey! Let the girl speak!" Then, as an afterthought, "Blair, would you like some wine? How rude of us not to ask! What gallant men we are," Bart said wryly, and when Blair nodded her thanks he gestured for a server.

"If your Majesty feels it is necessary to tax the commoners, then perhaps it would be cordial to grant them something for it. A national work-free day to happen every year, where leftover ale and wine, perhaps from Christmastide, could be given in the streets; something they could enjoy. Then your Majesty is seen as being generous, and the people barely notice that their raised taxes make up for the fact that they will not be working for a day."

"Of course!" Bart said happily, "Why didn't you think of that, Wolsey?"

The Cardinal's face was red with anger and humiliation, and he glared at Blair. "My apologies, Majesty."

"Why, Blair! You are quite the advisor. My son is a lucky man to have such a scholar by his side." To see Bart smile was a rare thing – happening only at the births of his children or victory in a war – and Chuck felt immense pride that Blair had done it, shaming the Cardinal in the process. "Enough talk now," Bart said with a sigh. "I miss my wife and my children and I am sure her Highness Princess Blair has grown weary of our discussions."

"With your permission, Father, we will take our leave," Chuck said, standing and bowing. "Norfolk, Buckingham." He pulled Blair from her seat guided her out of the room, pressing her against the wall in the corridor.

Much to her surprise, he kissed her hard on the lips, leaving her breathless, and an exhilarated smile on his face.

She eyed him, smiling coyly. "Well?" she said, "Did I help?"

He took both of her small hands inside his large ones. "Of course. It could have gone on for hours more if you had not been there. You have the mind of a man, you know."

"Is that supposed to be flattering?" She said, laughing as he pressed kisses to her palms. He rolled his eyes. "I find you much changed, Charles."

"Perhaps we are friends now?" He replied, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

Blair nodded. "I would like to think so."

"Come to my chamber for a drink?" he asked, and she pulled a face.

"I promised Serena I'd take a walk with her."

Chuck made an effort to keep the disappointment from his voice. "Oh."

"You're welcome to join us?"

He smiled. "Then I shall, my Princess." Blair blushed and bit her lip. "What?" Chuck asked her.

"It's nothing."

Then he realised: '_**My**_ Princess'. He kissed her hand and she tilted her head, gazing at him thoughtfully.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked her, poking her lightly in the arm.

"Because you said something nice to me that wasn't derogatory," she replied teasingly. "Come. Serena will be waiting."

The three of them (Blair, Chuck and Serena) had multiplied into eight; Blair's chief lady in waiting, Jennifer, had joined them, as had Carter, Nathaniel and Andrew, and the young Prince Edward, who insisted that Andrew carry him on his shoulders. The eight of them ambled leisurely around the Palace grounds, wrapped in their furs.

"I wish my Majorie was here," Blair said wistfully, "I miss her."

"Majorie?" Chuck asked her, puzzled.

"She was my puppy. I could've brought her with me, but my young nephew Eduoard got quite attached to her and I decided to leave her in France, so that he would have a reminder of me." Her eyes became sad as she talked about France, and, sensing her sadness, Serena linked her arm through hers.

"Tell me about your sister," She asked with a smile, "Perhaps talking about her will make you feel a little better."

Blair's face brightened a little. "I suppose I could do that."

"What does she look like?"

"A lot like me. Long dark hair, brown eyes, a pointy face... Only she has darker skin, like my mother. I take after my father." Blair smiled sadly. "I miss him greatly... My father, I mean. He was a great man, and a great King."

"I would have like to have known him," Chuck added quietly, and Blair glanced up at him.

"Thank you. I am sure he would enjoy your company. My sister says that I have his temper." She giggled and Serena laughed with her.

"I do not doubt it," Andrew replied, "Chuck told me what you said to Wolsey. The last person who dared to do that ended up in the tower, if I remember correctly."

"Oh yes! That's right!" Serena chirped in. "He was released... eventually. I think. But he lost his position at court and was banished to Scotland."

Blair rolled her eyes. "I cannot bring myself to warm to that man," she said with a sigh. "I find him insufferable."

Chuck smirked at her. "I agree."

"Chuck and the Cardinal are not the best of friends," Carter chuckled darkly, gazing appreciatively at the shy Jennifer. "Walk with me for a while, would you, miss?" He asked her, smiling as she nodded her agreement. She slowed so that he could walk beside her and he pulled her hand through his arm. "Smile for me, won't you?" And, as if on cue, she did.

Blair and Chuck exchanged a glance. "I think she likes him," She said to him softly, so that only he could hear.

Chuck made a face. "I hope she does not get too attached."

"Why?"

The Prince sighed. "His father means for him to marry an Irish heiress, but there are squabbles over her dowry and where they shall live after the marriage."

"Oh," Blair said, a little disappointed. "Well, there is no harm in her talking to him. And perhaps, together, if my maid and your friend find they enjoy each other's company enough, we could persuade his father to change his mind." She smiled a manipulative smile and Chuck laughed a hearty laugh.

"What a formidable foe you would make, Blair. I find myself eternally grateful that we no longer find ourselves to be enemies."

"Indeed," Blair replied with a smirk.

"Princess Blair!" Edward called, now on the floor as Andrew rubbed his shoulders. "Will you walk with me?"

Blair let go of Serena and Chuck and took the little boy's hand. "Why of course, your Highness. I would be honoured. Look at the winter flowers, aren't they pretty?"

"I will pick some for you," Edward said decisively, reaching his little hand into the flowerbed and plucking the ones that Blair had commented on. "Do you like them?"

"Why yes, I do. I shall have them placed in a vase in my chamber."

Edward spied a blue flower, just out of his reach. "That one matches your dress, Princess."

Blair laughed. "Call me Blair, your Highness. And yes, it does. Be careful that you don't..." and before she could say the word, Edward had fallen, head first, into the flowerbed, covering his silver doublet and hose and his grey fur coat in dirt and green stains from the plants within. "... Fall."

Edward looked up and started to laugh, rubbing his knee bashfully as Blair leaned over and picked him up, balancing him easily on her hip. She reached up and wiped a little dirt from his nose, and he giggled as she tickled him under the chin.

"How very clumsy your Highness is. Now you have dirt all over your lovely clothes! What on earth will your mother say?" Blair smiled at the little boy to show she wasn't serious and he grinned at her, wiping a dirty finger on her own nose, leaving a small smudge on her ivory skin. "Oh, so you want me to be dirty too?"

"Yes!" Edward cried in delight, giggling as Blair kissed him on the cheek. "Call me Edward! Not 'your Highness'. You will be my sister soon, won't you?"

"It would seem so, yes, Edward," Blair replied with a smile. "Come. Show me the swans on the pond and then we will go back inside so that you can have a bath."

"One of them is mine, you know," Edward said proudly. "She's got a nest on the bank and everything."

"Oh really? Well, we shouldn't get too close! I was pecked by a swan once, as a child. They are very fierce mothers."

...

Serena watched carefully as Chuck gazed after his bride-to-be. "She's good with children," the blonde commented as Blair laughed along with her little brother.

"Yes," Chuck said shortly, smiling as his little brother wiped dirt on Blair's nose.

"I think you're falling in love with her, Chuck." Serena stopped in front of him, her sunshine smile on her face. "I can _see it in your eyes."_

Chuck shrugged, not taking his eyes from Blair's face. "She is to be my wife. There is nothing wrong with admiring her."

"And _desiring _her," Nathaniel added, glancing quickly at Serena and then back at Chuck.

Serena smiled at Nate in agreement. "Chuck..." She ventured, wringing her hands nervously. "Why am I not yet betrothed? I know that Blair and you were engaged when she was only eleven, and Andrew is to be married to a Spanish Princess when she comes of age. I've even heard that father already has plans for both Edward and Phillip. What of me?"

Chuck looked at her for a moment, his expression hard to read. He glanced back at Andrew, who nodded. "Your mother has persuaded our father to allow you to follow your heart... with a few limitations, of course. We could not have a Princess of England marrying into a peasant family!"

Unthinkingly, Serena allowed herself a quick look at Nate, and found he was gazing at her in a similar fashion. They both blushed and shared a shy smile, and Nate nodded his head almost immeasurably.

...

"Edward! Come back! You mustn't run whilst we're near the water!" Blair called after the little boy, who was running excitedly around the bank of the pond. As clumsy as ever, the boy slipped and skid about 6 feet onto the ice grinning as he sat there. Blair edged her way towards him along the frozen pond, moving slowly towards the middle as she realised the real danger the boy was in. She reached out her hand, about four feet away from the bank, reaching out her hand to grab him before he fell.

There was an almighty cracking sound, and both Blair and young Edward fell unceremoniously through the ice. He coughed and spluttered in the water, unable to swim. He disappeared under the surface, the cold water closing over his head. Blair had also gone under, but she emerged soon after, holding Edward on his back so that he wouldn't get any more of the freezing water in his body.

"Blair!" Serena shrieked from some distance behind her, "Edward!"

Blair kicked her legs as her father had taught her many years ago. She swam to the edge and passed him to Andrew, who was deathly pale.

She made to heave herself out, but her foot caught on a root. "I'm stuck." Her voice shook as shivers wracked through her small body, her heavy dress pulling her down further into the water as she struggled. "I can't get out."

Even to her own ears, her voice sounded eerily distant. It was as if she had floated up out of her own body and was gazing down at the commotion. Guards now surrounded the hole in the ice, and Chuck was heaving at her body to get her out of the water. Little Edward's blue body was wrapped in a flag, and he was shaking violently in Andrew's arms.

"She'll freeze if we don't get her out!" Serena screamed, beginning to sob hysterically.

"Andrew, take Edward back to the castle. Get him out of those wet clothes and sit him in front of the fire till he warms, and then get him in a hot bath. Be careful that he doesn't heat up too quickly. You must be one the to tell father of the accident, and let him telly Lily. Carter? Run for Dr Linacre, they'll both need him. " Chuck gave out orders, sounding as calm as Blair felt. "Serena, will you _please calm down!"_

Blair felt her eyes drift closed as the root beneath her foot broke as Chuck tugged at her body a final time, pulling her from the water. "Chuck..." she said softly, as he gripped her hand.

"Blair..."

His voice faded away, and Blair's consciousness was carried away as she lay there, shivering and soaked to the skin on the snow. Her lips were as blue as the water, her skin as white as death.

* * *

><p><strong>Dun-dun-dun!<strong>

**Many thanks to French reviewer Clia, who corrected my spelling of Blair's nephews name from "Eduard" to "Edouard" – I really appreciate it :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Rating has changed to M for sexual content. Don't get your hopes up - it isn't the wedding night!**

**Just a reminder before you read? Chuck Bass is still Chuck Bass, Prince of England or not, and he still tried to sleep with other girls at the beginning of Season 2 when Blair was 'dating' Marcus. Don't judge before you read! **

* * *

><p><em><strong>5<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

Chuck was numb as Blair was carried back to the castle, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow and fast.

With horror, he realised he recognized the sound. The few distant memories he had of his mother swam into his mind, her clammy skin and the cold sweat that matted her hair, her heaving chest as she fought for breath, the bloodstain on her shift, a thick, ugly, scarlet, horizontal line across her torso.

He had been there when they had done it, sliced through layer after layer of her flesh to save his baby brother. Whilst he loved his father, he would never be able to forgive him for his mother's death.

"_Get the baby out!" His mother had cried desperately, clutching onto her midwife's apron as she screamed in pain. "Get him out!"_

"_No!" Chuck shouted, "Mama!"_

The lush sound of a knife, slicing through layers of flesh... And then the blood; blood that splattered onto the face of the doctor and the pristine white coverlet of her bed, onto the tapestries on the walls and the curtains on the windows.

His mother's agonized wail of agony as the boy was torn from her womb, the way her hands clutched at thin air in an effort to hold her baby before she took her final breath, legs that flailed against the searing pain that set her stomach aflame, fighting against the waves of unconsciousness that pulled at her eyelids. She _would_ see the child, regardless of what happened to her.

She had died four days later from childbed fever. Chuck and Andrew had grown up with Lily as their mother and a father who could not look at them properly until they were old enough to look like grown men, rather than the image of his dead Queen.

And here Chuck was again – in a different room and a different situation that awoke the same feeling of absolute dread and panic, as his betrothed lay still on her bed, the covers pulled tight to her chin. The fire was blazing and the room was as hot as an August afternoon, hotter; if there was a hell, then this must be it, this suffocating heat and incredible terror that gripped his heart.

* * *

><p><em><strong>10<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

It had been five days since she had fallen in the pond whilst trying to rescue Edward.

Edward, on the other hand, was the picture of health. He had had a slight fever for a couple of days, but other than that, he was up and playing in the nursery with his chambers with his siblings.

No, it was only the French Princess who lay dithering in her bed, the flowers Edward had picked for her on a table, the sole burst of colour in the dark, sombre room – darker still now that the sun was setting and her ladies had yet to light the candles in her chambers. Edward himself had visited her every day, immense guilt overpowering the boy's normally happy character, despite the consolations of his siblings that it was not his fault.

And it was here that Chuck and Edward found themselves, sat by Blair's side in chairs as she rested, her weak body trying to right itself. She was unusually peaceful, though she had awoken a couple of times, delirious and confused, asking for Chuck and Claude.

Her eyes fluttered behind their lids and Chuck sat up immediately, holding a finger to his lips to ensure that Edward stayed silent.

She let out a low moan from deep in her throat, and lifted a hand to her head. "I feel like I've had too much wine," she said, her voice raspy and quiet. She saw Chuck and smiled, before a fit of coughing stole the expression from her face. "Water, please."

Chuck wordlessly handed her a goblet, holding the rim to her lips as she sipped. He rested his other hand on her forehead, taking her temperature.

"Well, your fever has gone," he murmured, impulsively leaning forward and taking her hand in his, pressing his lips to her wrist. "I'll summon the doctor."

"Wait," Blair whispered. Edward's lip began to tremble and she sat up on the bed, ignoring a warning look from Chuck, and took both of the little boy's hands in her free one. "It was an accident," she said quietly, "You must not blame yourself, Edward."

"But, I went on the ice," he argued feebly, burying his face in the covers.

"It was an accident," she repeated firmly.

"I brought you some more flowers," Edward murmured, pointing a finger to the flowers on the table. "To say sorry."

"Do you need anything?" Chuck asked quietly, his eyes boring into her soul as he gazed at her.

"Food," Blair replied, an embarrassed smile lighting up her features.

Chuck smirked at her. "Anything in particular?"

"Would it be too forward of me to ask for homemade chicken broth? Jennifer has the recipe, I had it brought from France..."

"It is done," Chuck said instantly. "We have the recipe already – our chefs perfected it before you arrived. My father wanted you to be as happy as possible whilst you were here." He frowned as she coughed again. "I'll get Linacre. That is not a healthy sound."

Blair shook her head. "I've been in a tonic-induced sleep for five days, Chuck, is it any wonder that my throat is dry? I need to be awake. I've had so much rest I think I have forgotten how to walk." She winked at Edward at this and the little boy giggled. "It's too hot in here, can somebody open a window?" She pushed the coverlet off of her legs, groaning as the muscles in her legs began to ache.

"It's to sweat out your fever," Chuck explained, scratching his chin. "But if you insist."

"My fever has gone," Blair replied haughtily, folding her arms. "I would like to get out of bed now."

Chuck frowned again at her insistence to get up. "You should stay in bed..."

"I _have_ to get up, Charles."

"Why?"

"To use the closet," Blair hissed at him, her face setting alight in shame.

Chuck flushed. "Ah." He summoned one of her maids, who held Blair as she limped to the closet.

"I think I've hurt my ankle," the Princess grumbled, rolling her foot with a painful expression on her face. She emerged from the closet a moment later, looking a little relieved. She murmured something to Jennifer and the blonde woman nodded.

"Yes, Madam."

"What? What is it?" Chuck said in alarm.

Blair gave him a withering look. "Would you _calm down_?"

"Well... what is it? What do you need?"

"It's nothing," Blair replied rolling her eyes.

"Tell me or I shall send for a physician!" He demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

She leaned forward, wincing as she put weight on her ankle. "Jennifer has agreed to bathe my ankle and massage my foot, to keep the blood flowing and aid the healing. Since you are my future husband, it is not appropriate for you to be here whilst my legs will be bare. Are you satisfied?"

Chuck rolled his eyes. "We are to be married. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll be fine," Blair insisted, giving him an odd look. "You, on the other hand... You do not seem yourself, Chuck."

"I was worried about you," he muttered, avoiding her eyes. Chuck was astonished when Blair smiled at him, taking one of his hands.

"Chuck, it was just cold water," she said softly. "But I am grateful that you are concerned for my welfare."

"Of course I am concerned! You are to be my wife, Blair. You should bathe," Chuck replied, sighing and looking out of the window.

Blair dropped his hand and looked a little hurt. "Oh. Yes, your Highness."

"Don't be like that, Blair."

"I am not 'being' like anything, Charles. There was I thinking that we were having quite the tender moment, and you suggested that I bathe. Does my scent offend you, Prince?"

Chuck blinked at her stupidly and then placed his hands on her shoulders. "I was referring to the pain in your ankle – bathing would soothe the ache, and I could rub your foot for you, if it pleased you. To say that you have had so much sleep, your temper has most certainly not improved."

A smile filled her face and she wrinkled her nose in embarrassment. "I am sorry. I am not used to such affection."

"Then perhaps you should become accustomed to it. I do not do things by halves, Blair. If you will let me care for you, then by God I will be by your side whenever you need me... But I cannot be there without your permission."  
>...<p>

When Blair asked for the bath to be filled, Chuck caused much scandal by insisting that he remained with Blair as she washed. Even Serena protested, who had arrived mere minutes after she had gotten word that Blair had woken up.

Only Blair herself was the only one who was not fazed by Chuck's dismissal of propriety and etiquette. "For Heaven's sake, I shall cover myself with a sheet if it bothers you all so! You may all go – I would like some privacy. Jennifer, would you stay? Read a book or something, just so there can be no complaints that I did not have an escort."

That had silenced all protests, and Chuck had smirked in satisfaction when Blair groaned contentedly as she sank into the steaming water. She nudged his hand with her foot and raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

He laughed – a rare thing – and pushed his thumbs gently into the arch of her foot, stiffening when Blair moaned. It was a delicious sound, and Chuck swore to himself right then and there that he would make it his life's mission to pull that sound from her red lips as often as possible.

Blair fell asleep in the water, a small smile on her face. At this, Chuck gave the lady Jennifer a dismissive look, not wanting the eyes of anyone to witness this moment of pure intimacy between himself and his bride-to-be, and she nodded. "Not a word to the others," Chuck warned her. The woman nodded and smiled understandingly, and Chuck looked back to his betrothed.

She was completely at his mercy now. Naked, asleep and in a pool full of water – why, if he really did not want to marry her, here was his chance to drown her without witnesses!

But Chuck gazed adoringly at her, smoothing her damp hair back from her forehead. From being by her bedside since she had fallen unconscious, he knew that her hair hadn't been washed in at least five days, and an idea came to him.

He pulled out the ribbon that held her long dark hair off of her neck, smiling when her soft curls tumbled free into the water. Chuck's eyes found a bottle of red liquid, and he squeezed some onto his hand, sniffing it warily. It smelt of exotic fruits, and so Chuck gently lathered the liquid into Blair's hair, being careful not to get any in her eyes. He rinsed the suds away with the cooling water of the bath, even averting his eyes when the sheet covering her bare body slipped and revealed her creamy white shoulder and part of her chest, pulling it back up and tucking it more securely around her.

Chuck softly ran a comb through her wet hair, smiling when Blair let out a small purr in her sleep.

He plucked her arm from the water, trailing the very tips of his fingers along the smooth skin of her inner wrist to her elbow, stilling his movements when Blair stirred in the water.

Chuck dipped one finger into the water, frowning as he detected a slight chill. He stood from his position on the floor, and pulled the small day-bed in Blair's outer chamber to stand in front of the fire. He cast a fur blanket over it and tossed another log on the fire. Grabbing another sheet from the pile, Chuck lifted Blair from her bath and placed her on the day-bed, unwinding her body from the wet sheet and wrapping her in the dry one. Small curls fell around her face and Chuck brushed them away with a smile – even in her sleep, a part of Blair found a way to be defiant.

He pulled fur blanket around her and covered her body with another to ensure she did not catch cold from the bath. When Blair was settled, Chuck decided he would stay with her until she woke.

He found a book – "The Freedom of the Christian Man" – and glanced over the front page, frowning when he saw the author was Martin Luther. He eyed Blair curiously, but placed a cushion on the floor in front of her sleeping body and began to read.

...

Chuck didn't hear her wake up, but he felt her shift behind him and looked up to find her gazing down at him, a wondering smile on her face.

"Where is everyone?" She said quietly when she noticed that they were the only two in the room.

Chuck shrugged and closed the book, keeping his middle finger inside its pages to act as a bookmark, his expression hard to read. "Where did you get this?"

Blair glanced at the cover, her smile fading as she studied his face. "France."

"And you believe these things?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes, expecting the heretical lecture that was sure to come; Chuck's own father had been named defender of the faith, she could not expect much in the favour of reform from the Prince of England.

But his answer deeply surprised her, and she opened her eyes widely and blinked at him. "I'm impressed," Chuck replied, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Though I am surprised that you have not hidden this book – I am sure you are aware that having knowledge of such a book could have you burned."

"It would be well worth it," Blair said with a shrug. "Luther is a great theologian. I am very moved by his works. His ideas are very futuristic. I am not sure that England is ready for such policies."

"I would be inclined to agree with you, had I not seen the corruption of the clergy for myself. I am certain that almost every parish in England would be greatly cheered to have rid of men who rob them of money for their own gain."

Blair sat up and blushed when her bare leg slid from the cover of the blankets. "Did you take me out of the bath?"

Chuck shrugged. "Of course."

"But I was not dressed."

"I did not look at anything that would offend you, Blair. On my honour, I swear it," Chuck replied almost anxiously, worried about her reaction.

"From what I have heard from my ladies, your honour is greatly tarnished." Chuck's face began to redden, but then he saw her smirk and poked her exposed leg. She leaned forwards and Chuck sat up on his knees, bringing his torso flush against her covered one. Blair pressed a kiss to his left cheek and then smiled against his lips. "Thank you." Her breath against his mouth was sweet and Chuck sighed against her skin. She gently touched her lips to his, the tips of her pointer finger and middle finger on her right hand brushing against the stubble on his cheek. "You have not shaven." And then, as if it had suddenly occurred to her, "Have you been by my bedside since I slipped?"

Chuck flushed and looked away from her eyes. "I did not want to leave you alone."

"You did not have to do that, Chuck-"

He silenced her by kissing her deeply, and she quickly forgot her questions (and her own name, for that matter) as his tongue slipped past her lips and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and held his face tightly to hers. She let out a whimper when he pulled away from her, and glared at him. "What?"

"The blankets," he mumbled in embarrassment, his eyes dipping down to her exposed body and then away again.

Blair flushed and pulled them back to her chest. "Oh." She smiled at him, biting her lip. "I am sorry."

Chuck adjusted himself in his trousers and smirked at her. "It is I who should apologise, Princess. I am too forward in my actions."

"My being undressed does not affect my mind, Chuck," she replied coyly, lifting his chin with her forefinger. "I am sorry. About... _that_." She glanced down to the bulge along his inner thigh and he rolled his eyes.

"It is not your problem to worry about," Chuck dismissed, then, seeing the expression of hurt that flashed across her face, "Not yet."

She seemed appeased by this, and he kissed her hand. "I shall leave you to your sleep. Goodnight, Blair."

After tossing and turning in bed for a while, Blair sat up and groaned. "Find my robe, Jennifer. I'll have a drink with Charles before I go to sleep." She peeled herself out of her bed and retied the ribbon around her waist. Her nightgown was tight over her breasts but flowed loosely to the ground. It was made of three layers of the softest French lace, so that it was sheer but not to the extent that it was inappropriate. The sleeves reached her wrists, but there was an open slit from wrist to elbow, showing the soft skin of her forearm beneath.

"Which one, madam?"

"The black velvet one," Blair replied, pulling her wild curly hair up into a knot, exposing the nape of her neck.

"Yes, my lady."

...

Georgina stood in her nightgown before the Prince, his eyes scrutinizing the contours of her body.

He sat back on his bed, unlacing his trousers and unbuttoning his jacket, but remained fully dressed, save for his boots that were on the floor.

"Slip the gown from your shoulders," he said firmly, his eyes fixed on her breasts as she pulled the dress from her body. "Slowly."

This was not a romantic encounter, far from it. He needed release, and Georgina was one of his favourites. She knew how to please him physically, and had the sense to stay reasonably silent as he had his way with her, whenever and wherever she wanted. He had elevated her father to the title of Viscount a few months back, so that he had the pleasure of knowing that she would be there at his beck and call.

When she stood naked before him, Chuck curled a finger and beckoned her towards him. "Undress me."

Georgina pulled at his clothes, hiding her smirk against his neck when his arms wrapped around her waist and his hips thrust against hers. He sat up on the bed and her legs fell loosely around his waist. He nibbled roughly on her collarbone, and her answering moans were delicious to his ears as he imagined how _hers_ would sound, the brunette he _really_ wanted to be buried in to the hilt. Oh how he longed to be married to her, to ravish her body over and over again every night.

She lifted herself and positioned her body over his, sinking slowly down onto him as she let out a shaky breath. Their bodies found the practiced rhythm and they settled into it, and Chuck rolled his eyes in frustration when his whore clenched uselessly around him, turning them over and pounding into her, tired of the gentle, slow movements. They were not lovers, he _detested_ that word. 'Lovers' meant that there was emotional involvement and true feelings behind the act. Compared to that, his encounters with women were ugly and unsatisfying – he had never experienced mind-blowing release, the kind that Nathaniel and Andrew had told him made stars explode behind the eyes and left the legs weak – and almost longed to meet a sexual partner who could give him that.

He heard Georgina shriek and glared down at her for making too much noise, but found her eyes were staring over his shoulder, towards the door to his bedchamber.

There, her face completely blank, was his betrothed, holding two goblets of wine and wearing the most alluring nightgown he had ever seen.

...

"I command you to let me in, Sir," Blair raised an eyebrow as the guards outside of Chuck's chamber gazed uneasy glances. "Open these doors!"

One of them sighed, closed his eyes and turned the knob, pushing the door open and stepping aside so Blair could enter. "Yes, your Highness."

She smiled victoriously at them, breezing past the two men, the empty golden goblets in her hands.

It took her a little while to find a jug of wine in Chuck's chamber, but she eventually located one, and poured a generous amount in each goblet. She left the jug where she could find it, and opened the door to his bedchamber.

"I couldn't sleep. I was hoping we could..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes focused on the two figures in the bed. "Oh..."

The woman shrieked (Blair recognised her as her lady in waiting who had stated her choice of dress was inappropriate – the irony!) and Chuck turned his head in Blair's direction.

He was without his boundaries here, naked where he was usually dressed in elegant, expensive clothes of silk and boots of leather. He detached himself from his whore, giving the woman a look of disgust when she whimpered as his body lifted out of hers. "Blair..."

She held up a hand, silencing him. "No," she said, "Don't bother. I don't know why I am so surprised." Blair placed the goblets on a table, folding her arms and leaning against the door.

"Why are you here?" Chuck asked her curiously, covering his 'modesty' by pulling the sheet from the woman, leaving her exposed on his bed.

"Georgina, is it?" Blair replied, ignoring him. "You can consider yourself dismissed from my ladies. Whoring is not acceptable."

Georgina flushed and rolled out of the bed, avoiding her eyes. "Yes, Madam."

Blair bent down and plucked Georgina's nightgown from the floor, holding it between her forefinger and thumb so that she was touching is as little as possible. "You might need this," Blair said coolly, "Though I'm sure the whole castle knows you are a whore."

The other woman did not reply, and took the dress from Blair. She curtsied – quite a feat considering she was naked – and left the two royals alone.

"Why are you here?" Chuck repeated, dressing himself in his nightclothes as nonchalantly as he possibly could.

Blair averted her eyes. "I could not sleep. I felt guilty for leaving you in that _condition_, and I was hoping to make amends with a nightcap," she muttered. "Though now I can see that you found a whore to entertain you."

"I would have come to your chambers, had you simply sent a message." Chuck went red, unable to disagree with her.

"I do not like to be kept waiting."

Chuck barked a laugh defensively in an effort to distract her from his embarrassment. "But yet you will make me wait for your virtue, as you did earlier this evening? We are to be _married_. I could _command _you to surrender yourself to me and you would have no choice. Or I could take what is rightfully mine, even _without_ your permission." He reached out a hand and traced the side of her face, his hand tightening on her neck.

Pushing his hand off of her, Blair moved closer to him until her face was inches from his, her dark eyes hard as she glowered at him. "You forget _Prince_," she sneered, "The swords of France are closer than you think."

"How dare you threaten war?" Chuck roared in reply, throwing a nearby ornament into a wall.

"How dare you threaten _rape?" _Blair countered furiously, pushing him away from her.

He grabbed her wrist, his grip bruising and tight. "You are in England now, madam, and you will do as your husband bids you!"

"I have no husband, Charles. Not yet. If the choice was mine I would find myself in France this very moment, but yet here I am, in your chambers. Have you no patience? I cannot believe I thought that you would forsake your whoring ways because we had become friends. How foolish of me!"

Chuck pushed her against the wall, holding her hands firmly above her head, her breath hot on his face.

"Let go of me," Blair said, her voice trembling as she realised with real fear that she was alone here, completely at his mercy. Who would believe her if she claimed rape? She was betrothed to him, for Heaven's sake!

"Ah, do I detect a little fear?" Chuck snarled at her, his mouth curling cruelly as he mocked her. "Nobody will hear you scream, Princess, and if they do, nobody will come to help you."

"I am not afraid of you," Blair hissed at him from between clenched teeth, leaning herself away from him.

"You lie," he replied softly, his breath tickling the skin of her throat. Then, as if it dawned on him how scared she actually was, guilt and shame curled in his stomach like the snake of Satan himself, and his lips descended on her neck. He kissed her gently, soothing away the fear.

"Let go of me," She repeated, but her voice was uncharacteristically weak and, as he released her hands to cup her face and hold one side of her waist, she tangled her fingers in his hair. "Please." She spoke in a desperate whisper, as if her body was unsure of what it wanted. A part of her was absolutely outraged - how dare he treat her in this manner? She was a Princess of France and would be _married_ to him! - whilst another, much smaller part, craved more of his touches, touches that lit a fire in the pit of her belly and made her body shake. She turned her head so that their kiss was broken. "Charles."

Chuck sighed and gazed deeply into her eyes. "I am sorry about... _her_. Before. She meant nothing to me. I am deeply ashamed of my actions towards you, your Highness, please have mercy on my poor soul and find it in your heart to forgive me."

She gazed at him, an odd look on her face, as her mind struggled to make sense of these words. Charles was a man, a Prince, and an Englishman - three reasons for him to be the most deceitful creature ever created. She shook her head, and shrugged as if he had no effect on her. "I have no claim on you, as you have no claim on me. Nor ever will."

He captured her lips in a punishing kiss in an effort to disagree with her and she arched her back to halfheartedly fight him off. Her mind swam with sinful thoughts of lust, of carnal acts, and then the image of Chuck and his whore emerged at the forefront of her thoughts, and Blair broke away from the kiss, gasping for breath as her anger returned, full force. "Stop," she said, "Get off of me! How dare you!"

He put her gently back on the floor, his eyes sad. "Why?" He replied, "I know that you desire me. Try as you might to hide it, your body cannot."

Blair glared at him - if looks could kill, Chuck would find his head impaled on a spike in the grounds of Blair's manor in France! "How dare you insult me in this manner? You were just _inside_ another woman! It is filthy: _you_ are filthy, and if I have my way I shall be on a ship to France before the dawn breaks!" She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, rubbing hard at her lips as she glared at him.

Chuck scoffed at her. "We are to be married, Princess. The contract is signed. And no matter how much you protest, you _will _marry me."

"You disgust me," Blair said emotionlessly, stepping out of his reach. "And you will not touch me again. I cannot even _look _at you," she spat at him, moving so that there was a doorframe between them. "You forget that I am more of a Princess than you are a Prince!"

Chuck groaned in frustration. "She was a whore! I do not understand why you are so angry! She means nothing! When will you forget this?"

"When you are loyal to me above all others!" She said hotly, straightening her dress. "I will not be second best to any _whore_, and you would do well to remember it."

And Blair slammed the door in his face, hard. She walked back to her chamber as fast as was appropriate, and when she reached it, she dismissed all of her ladies - even the softly spoken Jennifer.

She fell back against a wall and her hands reached out at her sides at nothing, and as she sank down to the floor, angry tears clouded her her dark vision and she squeezed her eyes closed to keep them from falling.

"I will cry over no man," she vowed to herself, "Especially not a Prince of England."

* * *

><p><strong>Ok, ok! No flames please!<br>Could everyone please be aware that, even though Chuck and Blair are the most perfect TV couple in the history of the world, Chuck Bass is still Chuck Bass, and whilst fluffy moments of C&B goodness are all lovely and nice, Chuck is a little too OOC if he doesn't show his Chuck Bass ways.  
>Chuck and Blair are still Chuck and Blair, and I'm hoping this chapter kept their 'fire' burning.<strong>

**I'd really love reviews?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow – a bit of a mixed response to the last chapter! Thanks to all of those who have added this fic to their favourites and alerts, and a special thanks to all of my reviewers! 88 reviews on 4 chapters makes this the most reviewed story that I have ever written!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>11<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

"Jen?" Blair called from her bed, where she was lounging barefoot reading a book. "What is it?"

"Flowers, madam," Jennifer answered, appearing at the door to Blair's chamber holding a large bunch of early spring bloomers and a small velvet pouch. "And this."

Blair pulled herself off of her bed and sighed. "Are they from him?"

"Yes, my Lady."

"Toss them on the fire," she replied with a shrug. "Whatever that is," she gestured towards the velvet pouch, "It can be returned. At this moment in time, I would rather celebrate his death than accept a gift from him."

...

"She did _what_?" Chuck said angrily through gritted teeth.

"Sent it back, your Highness," the manservant muttered awkwardly, his voice shaking in fear.

"Enough of this," Chuck spat furiously, "Enough!"

He stormed to her rooms and banged his fist on the door, barging inside as one of Blair's ladies opened it. "Blair! Where are you?" He pulled apart the curtains that blocked the view of her bedchamber and sighed when she wasn't there. "Jennifer? Where is your mistress?"

Jennifer gazed at him grudgingly, her eyes narrow. "Out walking, your Highness."

"With whom?"

"Henry Stafford, your Highness," Jennifer replied coolly.

Chuck blanched. "The Duke of Buckingham's son?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Does she have an escort?" Chuck's voice was sharp and anxious – Buckingham was an ambitious little snake and was rumoured to have plans to overthrow the King - of course Blair would choose to walk with the son of the man who directly rivalled his father.

"I believe that his Grace the Duke of Buckingham is with them, your Highness."

"How are you finding your time at the English court, your Highness?" Buckingham asked her politely, catching his son's eye over the top of Blair's head.

"Why, yes, your Grace. I am greatly charmed by England." Blair's voice was guarded and her tone falsely jovial. She knew of Buckingham's thoughts towards the royal brood and disliked the man, but his son was pleasant and was apparently in favour of reform.

"And what of the Prince?" Henry Stafford wondered quietly, his kind eyes gazing at her. "Is he pleasant to you?"

Blair made a face. "Charles treats me as if I was his wife already." Two men beside her laughed as though she had imparted some great wisdom upon them, but Blair's own smile was bitter and she took a deep breath. "I find his company exhausting."

The Duke of Buckingham gazed at her, puzzled and wary of the Princess. "His Highness the Prince is certainly in the grip of youth."

"I'd like to grip him," Blair muttered under her breath.

"I'm sorry, your Highness, I didn't catch that," Henry Stafford said to her, scratching the back of his neck.

"Henry, you and your father must call me _Blair_! I have grown weary of formal titles and ceremonies. I long for the day when I may walk barefoot through the palace as a normal woman would her home."

"I fear that day will never come, my Lady," the Duke of Buckingham replied with a wry smile. "Though I am sure the Prince would be greatly cheered to hear you speak of his home in such familiar terms."

Blair raised an eyebrow, her expression hard to read. "I am sure."

"Ah, here he is now. Your Highness, Blair was just telling us of her longing to-" Henry was cut off by a joint fierce glare from both Blair and Chuck.

"Since when does the son of a Duke call a Princess by her given name?" Chuck demanded, taking Blair's wrist from Henry's arm and pulling her away from the two men.

"Since I told them to," Blair said, glaring at him as she snatched her wrist back. In doing so, the sleeve of her overcoat had ridden up some and revealed the thick finger-sized bruises that Chuck had caused the day before. Whilst Henry Stafford didn't see the marks, the Duke of Buckingham did.

He reached out and took her hand gently in his palm. "With your permission, your Highness?" Blair nodded cautiously as he pushed back the sleeve and gasped. Around her wrist was dotted with ugly blotches of purple and blue, the bruises angry and the join to her palm was swollen. "You should have a doctor look at this. It looks sore."

"It is," Blair replied quietly, her eyes flickering to Chuck and back to her arm.

Chuck gazed at Blair's wrist, his eyes round and his face pale. "How did you-"

"You are well aware of how I attained these bruises, Charles. Do not ask trivial questions," Blair said stonily, tugging back the sleeve to cover the offending marks. "Would your Highness be so kind as to inform me exactly why you have ruined my walk?"

"I was saving your reputation," Chuck replied sarcastically. "Why do you insult me by sending back my gifts?"

"Because you insult me by sending them at all! Do you really think a bouquet of flowers and a pretty necklace will make me feel any kinder towards you?" She moved away from the Duke and his son so that they would not overhear. "You have marked my skin," she uttered darkly. "What possessed you to think that a cheap jewel and a bouquet of flowers would atone for what you did? I may not be a worldly woman, Prince; I may not have travelled to the four corners of God's Earth or created great policies that have changed the shape of a country, but I do know some things that you clearly do not. I know that love and marriage do not always walk hand in hand. I know that, as royalty, I have to do things out of duty to my country. But I absolutely refuse to show favour to a man who took genuine _pleasure_ out of trying to frighten me, a poor woman in a foreign land with few friends of her own. How pitiful you are."

"I didn't mean to frighten you," Chuck said desperately, raising his voice. "You must know that."

"I do not know you at all," Blair replied, her voice cold. "You are a man who threatened to steal my virtue without permission. I would not _want_ to know you."

"Blair, please stop this."

"I am continuing what you began. I see no reason why it should be one rule for you and one rule for me. I am not one to be walked over, like a filthy mat on a wooden floor. I will not let you wipe your dirty feet on me, Charles. I want no part of you. Be under no illusions."

"Blair..."

"No." Blair's eyes flashed. "You have no right to talk to me. You are disgusting. I want nothing more to do with you."

Chuck considered this. "But you kept the flowers, so clearly you are being economical with the truth. I think that you have already forgiven me."

Blair scoffed a laugh and raised her eyebrows. "I burned the flowers, actually."

"You _burned the flowers?_"

"Yes."

Chuck blinked at her, his face turning a violent shade of mauve as his fury built. "How _dare _you?" he seethed, forgetting that they were only feet away from two men who were more likely to take Blair's side than his. "I picked those flowers myself, and you tossed them on the fire as if they were common firewood!"

"I would toss you on the fire, had I only the opportunity!" Blair replied angrily, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes. "Oh, that I were a man!"

Chuck sneered at her. "If you were a man I would draw my sword and run you through!"

"I do not doubt it," Blair quipped, raising an eyebrow. "You have committed every sin in the Bible – why not join those who live in the town of Sodomy and have done with it?"

"You speak out of turn!" Chuck thundered at her. "How dare you address me in such a manner? I am a Prince of England!"

"And I am a Princess of France and – be well assured! - I _dare_, Charles. I thought I made myself perfectly clear last night. I am not afraid of you, no matter what sins you threaten to damage me with. There is nothing that you can do to me that would make me as condemned as you are. What do you stand for, Charles? You flirt with women and elevate them before you bed them, only to discard them like rotten fish once you have had your way with them. You do not perform acts of love with the women you call your 'mistresses', no; those acts are no more beautiful than two dogs in a dirty street. What have you achieved, since you became old enough to know the running of the country that will one day be yours to rule? What decisions have you influenced? What policies have you created that will change lives for the better? You are a fickle fool, Charles, and the day I marry you will be the day that I sign away my soul. I will mourn rather than rejoice."

Chuck stared at her, part in outrage and part out of shock. Blair's outburst had been heard by the Duke of Buckingham and his son – who were gazing at her warily - but she didn't care.

Blair shook her head sadly, as if shaking painful memories from her mind. "We could have been beautiful, Charles, and I hate you for destroying that."

Seeing that he would row with her no longer, she took her chance to escape to the safety of her own apartments. "_Highness_," she said mockingly. Blair curtsied and stormed off, back towards the castle.

"Damn you!" Chuck cried after her, desperate that she would not have the last word. "I curse the day you came to England!"

Blair looked back over her shoulder, and Chuck swore that her eyes laughed at him. Her gaze was pitying and victorious, and a malicious smile pulled at the corners of her lips.

* * *

><p><em><strong>12<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

"What did you do, Chuck?" Serena asked him, fiddling with the sleeve of her gown.

Chuck shrugged in an effort to mask the genuine disappointment he felt in himself. "She walked in when I was with another woman a few nights ago."

Serena picked up the closest object and threw it at him, smirking when it hit him on the side of the head. "You are no better than a pig in a sty! How could you _do _that to her?"

"How was I to know that-"

"Don't make excuses for yourself! You are disgusting!" Something seemed to stop Serena's thoughts in their tracks. "Which woman was it?"

Chuck had the decency to grimace. "It was Georgina."

"Oh, Chuck, not her! She may as well work in a whorehouse in the city, for all the men that she has been with!"

"You're thirteen! How exactly do you know that?" Chuck asked his younger sister, gaping at her in bewilderment.

She waved off his question. "Have you apologised to her?"

"To Georgina?"

Serena threw another book at him – the spine of the heavy hardback hit him in the upper arm. "To _Blair!"_

"Oh." Chuck scratched his chin, a habit he tended to do when he was nervous. "I tried to."

"You are the most useless brother in the history of brothers," Serena declared. "I'm taking her side. Until she forgives you, I will not speak to you." She turned on her heel and marched from the room.

"Serena, wait!" he called after her, but she held up a hand to silence him without turning around and slammed the oak door behind her.

Blair's comments had really touched a nerve – because they were _true_. What good had he done as a Prince? He was supposed to be his father's apprentice, learning from the older man's mistakes and improving on his victories, but all he had been interested in was sport and women.

But no longer. He would show her – spiteful minx that she was – would show her exactly how _dedicated _that he could be. He would make her love him; make her absolutely devoted to him, and then he would prove to her just how much he could hurt her had he the mind to do so.

How _dare_ she throw such a tantrum in front of others? In front of the _Duke of Buckingham_, of all people? He almost enjoyed it when she was angry at him: it was an inner glimpse into the fire burning in her soul, and it was fascinating to watch her fury build and build until it erupted from her in a beautiful explosion of emotions. But she had shamed him greatly this time, and he wanted to make her pay.

"... And then I told him that I would not speak to him until you have forgiven him for fornicating with Georgina," Serena finished, out of breath from her tirade.

Blair shook her head and laughed. "You needn't have done that, Serena. He is a man. They believe that it is their right to take mistresses, wives or no. It will be many years until it is seen as the norm for a man to be faithful to one woman. Centuries even."

"But that's not right!" Serena protested, sitting down in a chair by the fire. "A man should love his wife."

"I am inclined to agree with you, sister," Andrew commented quietly from by the door, a sad expression on his face. "I am sorry of my brother's indiscretion, Blair."

Blair waved this off and smiled in thanks. "I am not the kind of woman who strives to change a man, Andrew. I know that men, especially men like Charles and your father are set in their ways. I am but a simple woman; it is more than I can ask for him to be faithful to me. I just wish he would show me the respect that I surely deserve as his bride-to-be. Other than the fact that he is four years my senior, Charles and I are greatly similar – loathe as I am to admit it. We are both guilty of the sin of pride, that I cannot argue with."

Andrew sighed at sat down by Serena's feet. She placed a hand on his head and messed up his hair, and he looked up and grinned at her. "Ah, sister, it is a wonder how you always manage to make my day better."

"I try," Serena replied with a happy smile, plucking a book from the top of the pile. It was one of Marguerite's romances, and she eagerly began to read.

"Is that an appropriate book for a thirteen year old, Blair?" Andrew asked her pointedly, spying Marguerite's name on the cover of the book, "Is it an appropriate book _at all_?"

Blair shrugged. "It is nothing that she will not need to know, in any case. I am sure that you would rather she finds out that way than by physical means?" Andrew flushed and Blair smirked at him. "I thought so." She closed her own book and sighed, staring into the flames of the fire with an unhappy look on her face. "I do so hate it when it rains."

"So do I," a small voice answered from the door. Blair looked over and beamed at the little Edward, who ran to her and hugged her legs. "Can we play?"

"Edward," Andrew scolded his younger brother, "How have you escaped your nurse this time?"

"I hid and ran away," the boy replied cheekily, poking his tongue out. "It's _boring_. I don't want to learn French and Latin and Spanish. I'm _English_. When will I need to know how to speak in any other language?" His voice was a petulant whine and Serena hid her giggle behind her book.

"I was the same when I was your age," Blair said to him, taking his hand and guiding him to the window seat. "But it is very important that you learn how to talk to people from other countries."

"But, _why_? Why can't they just learn _English?_"

"Edward!" Andrew said to him sternly, "You shouldn't say such things! It shows great ignorance to know nothing of other countries, and to not want to learn about them is far worse."

Edward's thumb found its way into his mouth and he pouted around it. He hated it when anyone scolded him, but Andrew and Chuck had the uncanny knack of looking scarily like his Papa did when they was angry.

Blair smiled at him. "I am French, Edward. One day you may visit France with your Father, and I am sure that my sister the Queen would be very impressed to hear a handsome young man like yourself speaking in their language."

"Oh yes," Edward mumbled unhappily. "I forgot."

"What if your wife is a French lady?" Serena added from her chair. "Wouldn't you like to have secret conversations with her, like you and the twins do sometimes?" Blair glanced over at her, an unspoken question on her lips. Serena grinned at her. "Anne and Jane invented their own secret 'language'. It's a useless mixture of Latin and Spanish, and it sounds like nonsense, but they taught Edward some of the words and he loves having secrets from his nurse. Poor woman; he would have her chasing him all over the castle if he was not so afraid of her."

"Ah," Blair replied with a smile. "It is very important to learn other languages, Edward. It means that you are a very clever and grown up little boy."

"I _am _a grown up and clever boy!" Edward insisted, his thumb falling from his mouth. "I can say 'hello' and 'goodbye' and ask people what their names are in French and I can count all the way to twenty in Spanish!"

"Well there you go," Blair said to him. "I have something for you."

She stood from the window seat and walked towards a small box on one of the many tables in her outer chamber. She opened it and looked around comically, as if she was hiding a great secret within. Taking a small handful of the objects within, she closed the box and went back to Edward. "Here."

She pressed five boiled sweets into his open palms.

"Thank you!" He grinned his toothy smile at her and she ruffled the curls on his head.

"Is that incentive enough to return to your nurse? I am sure that she is very worried about you."

"Yes," Edward replied sullenly, the smile fading from his face. "Will you walk with me?"

"Of course." Blair reached out her hand and smiled at him when he took it. "I shall be back soon."

"Would you like me to escort you?" Andrew asked her, having sat in Blair's chair. He looked comfortable and Blair laughed at him.

"There is no need, Andrew. I know the way."

"But, it is not appropriate for a woman of your standing to walk the castle alone," he protested weakly.

Blair raised an eyebrow and smirked at him. "I shall be fine."

"If you insist." Serena rolled her eyes at her brother's 'gallantry' – he hadn't needed much persuasion to stay sat in his chair on his bottom by the warm fire!

...

When Blair and Edward finally reached the nursery, Blair could not help but be impressed that the little boy had managed to navigate his way all the way to her apartments from his own – they were practically at opposite corners of the castle. Poor Edward's nurse was crying in a chair, her face covered by her shaking hands.

Blair cleared her throat and the woman looked up, anger flitting across her face before immense relief settled on her features.

"Your Highness!" She cried, "I was so worried about you!"

Anne and Jane rolled their eyes in unison – looking exactly like Serena as they did so – and smirked at Edward's red face.

"I am sorry, Katherine," he said to her softly. "I will not do it again."

"Do you promise, Edward?" Blair prompted him, her eyes stern but a smile dancing around her lips.

"I promise," Edward swore. He offered the lady one of the boiled sweets from his pocket and gave one to each of the twins, leaving two remaining in his pocket. "I would like to learn French. Will you help me, Annie?"

The twins were striking young girls. Anne had the dark looks of Chuck and Andrew, her eyes brown and her hair black and curly, reaching to her waist. Jane, on the other hand, had Serena's sunshine aura. Her hair was a soft honey blonde, not as straight as her mother's but not as curly as Anne's. Her eyes were the lightest blues, like Edwards. It had been a great shock when the twins had been born, and very unusual that, whilst they were identical in the face, their eyes and hair were so different.

Anne considered this and then patted the chair beside her. "Of course," she replied with a smile. "Hello, Blair," she said cheerily, waving a hand before going back to her studies.

"Good afternoon, Anne. Hello, Jane," Blair answered, her eyes softening at the blonde girl's shyness.

"Hello," Jane whispered, hiding behind her hair and giggling.

Blair smiled sympathetically at Edward's nurse, who was still hiccoughing after her tears. "Worry not, miss. He will not run away again, he has promised. Is Phillip asleep? I was hoping to hold him."

The woman shook her head. "His Highness Prince Phillip is with his Highness Prince Charles."

Blair frowned. "Oh. Well I shall take my leave of you." She called her goodbyes to the children and walked leisurely back to her own apartments, humming softly under her breath.

It wasn't often that Chuck felt completely alone.

He usually had an entourage of men whose sole purpose was to keep him entertained, a select group of women to keep him physically satisfied, and, if all else failed, the company of his family.

But Nathaniel was visiting a sickly aunt at his family manor. Carter was busy in his father's apartments. Andrew was nowhere to be found, though Chuck suspected he was with Serena in _her_ apartments. There were other men, of course, who would clearly delight in being favoured to spend 'quality time' with the Prince, but none that Chuck trusted enough to be his whole self with.

As for the women, well, he had promised himself that he would at least try to be loyal to Blair, at least until she was too pregnant to perform her wifely duties, so anything entertaining of _that_ sort was out of the question for the moment.

And his family? His family were no doubt well aware of what had transpired between them several nights before, and so were avoiding him as though he carried the sweat itself. Serena would be in Blair's apartments, pandering to the woman's every whim. Andrew would be with her – he was never far from his 'milk and honey sister' as he called her. The twins were too young to be good company, and Edward talked of nothing but Blair and how pretty she was and how he loved her.

There was only Phillip who Chuck could bear to be around for longer than a couple of hours. He adored his youngest brother, finding the child cynical and pessimistic even now – much like he had been as a youngster.

Chuck resolved to spend more time with Phillip; perhaps he could read to him for a while? He made the decision and walked to the Royal nursery before he could change his mind and find a woman to pleasure him for a couple of hours.

As he entered the nursery, the Edward's nurse, a young pretty thing with red hair and freckles, jumped to her feet and curtsied deeply, whilst Phillip's greeted him with a tired smile.

"May I take Phillip out for a while?" Chuck asked politely; the 'baby' nurse was the one of two women in the castle that he was wary of. She was a short, stout woman, with a vast bosom and strong arms. She nodded 'yes' and gestured towards the nursery. This woman was the only person (other than Bart, Lily, Blair and his siblings) who dared greet him with such familiarity in front of witnesses – she had been his nurse whilst he was a baby and that of all of his siblings. He was very fond of her, and smiled at her as he plucked Phillip from his crib, where he was happily playing with two painted wooden soldiers.

Phillip cooed happily in his brother's arms. "'Arles!" he said happily, patting Chuck's cheek with one of his chubby hands. "Play now."

Chuck smiled at his little brother and took him from the nursery, down to his own apartments where he would play a game with the child until he tired, and then read him a book until he fell asleep, dozing peacefully on the shoulder of his older brother.

He laid the little boy on his own bed, placing a pillow on either side of him so that he wouldn't roll off and onto the floor. He sat in his outer chamber and wrote a message to Phillip's nurse, informing her that she would need to come and collect her sleeping charge from his rooms.

* * *

><p><em><strong>15<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

"Ignore him," Lily said quietly to Blair her as Chuck twirled a blonde nobody around the room, holding her body close to his as they danced, her fair hair falling in a thick straight curtain down her back.

It was Blair's nineteenth day in England, and she was just about getting used to being almost completely ignored by her husband-to-be. They hadn't spoken since their row in the palace gardens, and she was not complaining. In his company she found her knees grew weak and her mouth stumbled over her words and his touch on her skin ignited a painful longing in the pit of her stomach. But most of all, he absolutely infuriated her. The memory of what he had done, the shamelessness of the act with Georgina, made her teeth grind and her fists clench, as if she wanted to physically hurt him.

Blair smiled at Lily and shook her head. "He can dance with whomever he pleases," She replied, draining her almost-full goblet of mulled wine. She gestured for more and pretended not to see Lily's look of concern.

"Your Highness, may I have the great honour of being your dance partner?" The person speaking was Lord Carter Baizen, the eldest son of the Duke of York. He bowed but kept his eyes on Blair's, and she smirked at him.

"Of course," Blair replied, taking Carter's hand.

His dancing was excellent, there was no doubt about that, but he was a very _passionate_ partner. He pressed her body tightly into his, and if Blair had not drank so much wine so quickly she would have shoved his wandering hands from her.

Blair found herself spun into the arms of another partner, and laughed breathlessly against his neck.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Chuck's tight voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up into his eyes.

"Oh, it's you," she said flatly, the exhilarated smile fading from her face.

"You shame yourself," Chuck whispered harshly into her ear, "Parading yourself around with another man when you are to be married to a Prince!"

"I see no fault in my dancing with one of your friends, Charles," Blair replied with a scoff.

"I don't like it," he said roughly, twisting her body so her chest was flush against his, their lips almost touching. "You are _mine_, and I say you will not dance with anyone but me."

"Envy is a sin," she said against his lips, moving away from him as he leaned in to kiss her. When he opened his eyes, she was by the door to the banquet hall, and she smirked at him.

"Devil woman," Chuck muttered, brushing off a woman who tried to pull him back into a dance as he followed his betrothed out of the room. He found her, her back against the wall, her eyes on the floor. "Blair?"

Blair closed her eyes and held up a hand to keep some space between their bodies. "You make me so angry, Chuck."

"The feeling is mutual," he growled at her, heat blazing in his eyes as he gazed at the flushed Princess before him. Chuck leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "I am sorry for all that I have done to offend you."

Blair opened one eye and Chuck smirked at the comical image. "I know that you are sorry." She bit her lip as Chuck stepped forward, and lust washed through her like a fever. "But I do not know if I can forget so easily."

He placed his hands on her waist and pressed his lips to her neck, fighting a smirk when she wrapped her arms around him, her fingers twisting into his hair. She sighed happily and pulled his face to hers, her mouth capturing his. He lifted her body, one of his hands finding her buttocks. He squeezed and she moaned, her head falling back against the wall. "Come to my chamber," he pleaded with her, and Blair's movements stilled.

"Put me down," she said softly. "Chuck... put me down."

Chuck let out a strangled cry. "Blair, I cannot put into words how much I desire you. I have done what you asked of me. Please cease this torment."

"You are loyal to me above all others? I think not," Blair scoffed, folding her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up further. "Eyes up here, Chuck."

"I have not bedded a woman in over a week," He pleaded. "Please. I beg you."

Blair shook her head, trying to dislodge the feelings of desire in her lust-addled brain. "I have had too much wine. This does not change anything."

"Say that you forgive me, Blair," he breathed against her lips, almost biting off his tongue when her mouth recaptured his. "Or I shall fail to find sleep this night."

She broke away from him again after a few minutes, her eyes heavy-lidded as the forbidden parts of her body cried out for his touch. "Isn't this enough?"

"It will never be enough," Chuck replied, kissing her neck and smirking when she moaned loudly in the empty corridor. "Even if I get to touch you every day for the rest of my life, it will never be long enough. I will never get enough of you, Blair."

"Consider yourself forgiven for the time being," She said suddenly. "I want you." Blair's body shook with anticipation as the boundary between fury and desire blurred. "God, why can we not be married this very moment?"

"We are betrothed," he offered softly, kissing the join of her shoulder and her neck.

Blair groaned and shook her head again. "I can't," she argued, her voice miserable - it was almost as if she was trying to reason with herself that she was making the right choice in _not_ consummating their reliationship before the wedding night. Her head fell back against the wall and she breathed heavily, the noise loud in the quite corridor. "Stop. Please."

Chuck did as she asked. "As you wish, Princess."

Blair smirked at him and she pressed her mouth to his neck, pulling material out of the way so that she could access his covered skin. She bit down on his collarbone and sucked, hard, bringing the blood to the surface in a purple mark. "There," she said, kissing the mark and touching it with her fingertips. She covered it over and gazed at him. "We should go back inside."

"I'll follow you in a moment," Chuck mumbled, adjusting his doublet and hose sheepishly. "I need to collect my thoughts."

"As long as you 'collect them' _alone_, I have no complaints."

* * *

><p><strong>How did everyone like Chapter 5? I know they made up faster than some of you would've hoped, but Blair was drunk and Chuck makes her mind spin, what can I say? He's also about to be unbelievably sweet to her - though you'll have to wait to find out! <strong>

**Thank you all for continuing to review – especially the long reviews! I love knowing your every thought about my writing, it helps me to improve.**

**PS – I have an idea for a sequel planned out, what do people think? **


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for everyone who has reviewed so far, even those comments that I think are completely unjustified and miss the entire point of the story that I am aiming to write. **

**For those who are struggling:  
><strong>Chuck. 21. Son of Bart and Evangeline  
>Andrew. 17. Son of Bart and Evangeline<br>Serena. 13. The daughter of Bart and Lily  
>Henry – deceased (would be 9). Son of Bart and Lily<br>Anne and Jane. 4. Twin daughters of Bart and Lily  
>Edward. 3. Son of Bart and Lily<br>Phillip. 1. Son of Bart and Lily.

**Prepare for some C/B fluff and heavy petting ("making out") beneath the sheets!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>16<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

When Blair awoke the next day, she was not in her own bed. And there was a sleeping figure beside her.

She glanced at him, smiling at the peace in his face as he slept. His normally immaculate hair was in disarray, his face flushed from the amount of wine that they had both consumed the night before.

She was fully dressed, still wearing the deep blue dress from the night before. There was an angry pounding in her head and as she sat up, a wave of sickness flowed through her body. Her hands shook and her mouth was dry, and she felt as stale as a week old loaf of bread.

She looked around and recognized the bed as the one that she had seen Chuck and Georgina fornicating in a week or so previously. Wrinkling her nose, Blair frowned as she began to wonder if the sheets had been changed since then. Hopefully they had been and she had not been sleeping on their dried dirty linen.

Blair pulled herself from the bed, wincing as the ache in her head screamed in protest at the movement. She used the closet and washed her face in a bowl of water, dabbing herself clean with a fresh piece of linen by the bowl. On the floor at the bottom of the bed, wrapped in a bundle of blankets, lay Jennifer, her little maid. Blair smiled fondly at the blonde's utter and absolute loyalty to her, not wanting to leave her alone with a man even when that man is a Prince and her future husband!

She opened the curtains into Chuck's outer chamber and she sighed as she gazed at the embers of the glowing fire. If it was so early that the servants had not yet been to relight the fires, it must still have been practically the middle of the night.

Blair made her way to the closed curtains that blocked out the outside world and opened them, squinting at the darkness outside. It was before dawn, of that she was sure, but the dawn was surely coming; the sky was becoming a lovely inky purple in the east, and she sighed as she thought of where Chuck could possibly be and what her ladies must have thought when she had not returned to her rooms after her long night of dancing and drinking wine with Marguerite, Chuck, Andrew and their group of friends.

Blair spied a jug of water on a table and poured some into a goblet, gulping it down as if she was dying of thirst. When she had drained the water, she poured two more goblets and drank those too. She searched the room until she found something that would take the foul taste from her mouth – apparently Chuck had this reaction to drink often, because there was a pot of mint leaves on the table by his bed. She chewed these and rinsed her mouth out with water, feeling much fresher than she had a few minutes previously.

She sat down by the fire and allowed the liquid to ease the sickness she felt, and then she laid down beside Chuck and began to stroke his face with her fingertips.

"Chuck," she whispered, "Wake up. Chuck." She pressed light kisses to his face, and smiled when he wrinkled his nose and burrowed down further beneath the blankets.

"No," he mumbled sleepily. "It's too early. Why are you still here? I told you to leave."

Blair looked hurt for a moment, and then realisation hit her. He thought she was a one-night conquest. She rolled her eyes and shook him. "It's Blair."

He opened one eye cautiously. "Oh."

"How did I get here?" She asked him softly, her face red as she tried to remember the night before.

"You could barely walk," Chuck grumbled, closing his eye. "We had to carry you. It was too far to your rooms and there were too many stairs on the way there. Here was closer."

"Oh."

Chuck opened both of his eyes and yawned. "I hate wine."

"The feeling is entirely mutual," Blair mumbled as she fell back onto her pillow. "I need more sleep."

"I know how you feel."

Blair blushed as a thought came to her. "Did I vomit?" She bit her lip and avoided his eyes.

Chuck pretended to shudder and smirked at her. "Yes."

"On you?"

"Only a little," Chuck replied with a grimace. He sat up and turned her face to his. "I've never seen you look so beautiful." He kissed her on both cheeks and sank back into the comfort of the blankets.

Blair stared at him in disbelief. "That is not funny."

"It's true," Chuck argued. "You look relaxed."

"I look disgusting. I _feel _disgusting."

"Looking and feeling are two very different things, Blair." Chuck rolled his eyes. "Where are the servants? The fire isn't lit."

"Dawn has yet to break," Blair said with a chagrined smile. "I am sorry for waking you."

"At least you stayed here in a bed rather than outside. At one point you insisted that you were sleeping under the stars, and would rather die than sleep in a bed. And once we managed to prove to you how cold it was outside, it was all we could do to keep you from sleeping on the floor. Or from making _me _sleep on the floor."

Blair blanched. "Who is 'we'?"

"Andrew, Marguerite, Carter, Nathaniel, Serena, even your little maid, Jennifer, I think her name is. We had to persuade you with the promise of a new dress and some of your favourite French wine. Jennifer refused to leave us alone. Apparently she has not yet forgiven me for my indiscretion." Chuck pulled a face at this, remembering the woman's temper the previous night when he had tried to make her leave. "I believe that she asleep on the floor at the bottom of the bed."

"Oh."

Chuck smirked at her. "Yes. _Oh_."

"I don't even remember drinking much wine," She said unhappily, folding her arms and pouting.

"I think it was the _pace_ that you drank."

"Ah." Blair twirled a piece of hair around a finger and sighed. "Thank you."

"You do not need to thank me. It is my duty as your future husband to take care of you." Chuck impulsively took her hand and interlocked their fingers, and he was sure he wanted never to let go; their fingers seemed to fit together in just the right way – effortlessly clasped, like perfect compliments. "Will you stay?"

"Stay?"

"Here. Just for a while." His eyes were gentle and tender, and Blair edged closer to him in the bed. She leaned her head on his chest and curled her body into his, with one of his arms looped around her shoulders pulling her tightly to him. "Blair?" he pressed anxiously when she did not reply.

She snorted softly and her gaze found his. "I have given you your answer, have I not? Hush now, let us watch the sunrise."

Chuck wanted to roll his eyes at this, but he was a little taken aback from the intensity of pure _contentedness _in the soft smile on Blair's face. They lay back on the sheets and looked towards one of the windows, and as an orange glow from the sun began to warm their faces, the door into Chuck's outer chamber banged open as the servants finally began to go about their duties.

Blair went red – the Princess in her still marginally mortified at being found in bed with a man, even if she was fully dressed beneath the covers and she had an escort a mere few feet away – and Chuck smirked and pulled the blankets up further to partially hide Blair's face.

He nodded politely at the attendants who rallied around his chambers, lighting fires, arranging the curtains, even straightening the furniture. Chuck had never been awake at such an hour, he had never seen the true extent of what these people did every day whilst he slept soundly in a warm bed. He marvelled at their drive – the men moved with a purpose, bringing a barrel of wood for the fire that was hidden behind a screen, the women tidied and cleaned – all of these people should by rights be in bed, and Chuck felt quite astonished and _guilty_ at how little he did for himself.

He could not stop the blush that dusted his cheeks when he thought of the man that was specifically employed to help him dress in the mornings, and the man whose sole task was to hold a piece of sheet in front of Chuck's hand when he chose to _relieve_ himself without the use of a woman. Even the thought of _that _now made him feel ashamed, the thought that he had been so driven by lust that he had lost all control of his rational mind.

Blair smiled at the redness of his face. "Incredible, isn't it?" She said softly, her hand finding his beneath the sheets. "So much happens around us that we are not aware of. It is both an honour and a curse."

"A curse?" Chuck asked, glancing at her curiously.

"So many decisions are made without our consent, without our _knowledge._ We are made to think that we are in control of all things because we are royalty... But our titles mean that we must bend to the will of those above us. We have no choice in anything, not really. It is quite frightening to think that, even though we have little to do with the runnings of our countries, we are amongst the first to be blamed for their problems. I may appreciate the worth of the common people, but they rarely see past the crown to the men who really make the decisions."

Chuck frowned. "My father makes the decisions in his own country."

Blair shook her head and pulled a face. "You are wrong. Wolsey creates the policies and makes your father think that they were of his own making. If you observe carefully the next time you happen to be in a meeting, you will see it in practice."

"How can you say that?" Chuck questioned her, his voice sharp. "How can you say that a King is not the Master of his kingdom?"

"I did not mean to offend you. I simply meant that a King is almost always required to conform to the policies that his advisors think up. Wolsey has much influence over your father. Do not let him have the same power over you." Chuck made to say something, but Blair placed a finger over his lips. "The day is too young to talk of politics, Chuck." She leaned up and pressed her lips to his, effectively quelling any of his other protests.

Chuck rolled so that his chest was flush against hers: they were side by side in his bed. He tangled a hand in her un-brushed curly hair, his other gently cupping her soft cheek as he kissed her softly, sweetly.

Blair giggled against his lips as he stiffened; she trailed her fingers down his clothed spine, leaving her hand resting against his bottom. She removed her lips from his and kissed her way to his ear, nibbling on the lobe gently and running the tip of her tongue around the shell. "Forgive me if my actions were too forward," she whispered hotly against his skin, smirking when he moved again. He pulled her on top of him, pressing her body against his firmly enough that she could feel the effects that she had on him but not so hard that he hurt her.

All thought of the servants, Jennifer included, had vanished from their minds. Blair was even a little _aroused _that someone could see them in such a precarious position!

Blair raised an eyebrow as her legs fell to either side of Chuck's hips, smirking and shaking her head at Chuck's childish, happy grin. The fact that they were fully dressed did nothing to hide the passion that they felt for one another, especially in Chuck's case. Blair's legs shook inside her dress as Chuck kissed her neck, her head falling forwards onto his shoulder as she moaned. With one hand gripping her waist and the other squeezing her buttocks through her rumpled gown, Chuck himself let out a groan as Blair's hips involuntarily bucked against his _manhood _when his teeth nibbled at the join of her neck and shoulder. She laughed breathlessly and gazed at him.

"How is it that being with you makes me forget all sense of propriety?" She asked him quietly, rolling off of him but resting her arms on his chest so that her upper body was still atop of his.

Chuck brushed a stray hair back from her face and shrugged at her, pulling one of her hands to his lips so that he could press a kiss to her wrist. He looked absolutely _blissful_. "Does it matter?" He rasped, and Blair smiled again in amusement.

"You look very pleased with yourself," she replied teasingly.

"I have the most beautiful woman on God's green Earth in my bed. Of course I am pleased with myself."

"Pride is a sin," Blair quipped, smirking at him.

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "So is lust, and I believe that we are both guilty of that." Blair flushed and she closed her eyes, covering them with an arm so they were out of Chuck's view. He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so that he could see her, pushing her arm away. "Promise me something?"

His intensity almost threw her off. "What?"

"Don't ever hide those eyes from me again," he said softly. "Promise me."

"I promise."

She glanced up at the sun now streaming through the window and sighed. "I should go back to my rooms. I would like to bathe before Mass. I smell like a brewery."

Chuck nodded. "Would you like me to walk with you?"

"No need." She kissed him again, her lips gentle against his. He kissed her back enthusiastically, and before long Blair found herself getting lost in the kiss. She placed both of her hands on his cheeks and her tongue swept over his top lip, seeking entry into his mouth. His groan made her stop and she pulled away sheepishly. "Forgive me," she whispered against his lips, blushing in embarassment.

"There is nothing to forgive," he replied contentedly. "If a man approached me with his drawn sword whilst you were doing that, I would rather be killed upon your lips than die apart from them."

"Poet," Blair smirked, running her fingers through his hair. "Now, I really _must_ go."

"Yes," Chuck said unhappily, his bottom lip sticking out in a way that Blair never would have believed had she not seen it herself. She reached out a finger and touched his lip, then leaned forward again to kiss it. Just as her lips met his again, Chuck turned his head away from her. "If you do not leave now, I will not let you leave at all. You can bathe here and have Jennifer bring you a clean dress if you insist upon teasing me."

Blair smiled at him. "Then I am afraid I must go. I shall see you at Mass, Chuck."

She stood and groaned as the ache in her head protested again. Chuck caught hold of one hand and pouted again. "Do not go."

"But I must, my love. Jennifer," Blair nudged the shoulder of the woman gently with her foot, pulling a face when Jennifer rolled over. "Jennifer, wake up. What an escort she makes." Blair rolled her eyes. "We could have been carnally active and she would have snored right through it! If only I had known..." Her voice trailed off wistfully, and she grinned at Chuck's expression.

"Blair," Chuck said warningly, "I will pull you back into this bed if you continue."

"I am sorry," she replied softly. Blair kissed his cheek and his forehead, and walked out of his chambers, calling Jennifer to wake and follow her. The blonde leapt to her feet after the fourth time her name was mentioned, and stumbled after her mistress murmuring her apologies.

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><p><strong>To all my supporters – you are amazing. Thank you for how happy you continue to make me.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to everyone who has added this story to their favourites and alerts – especially those special people who review! Your messages always make me smile. **

**Put down your pitchforks, people! I had the flu and have been bedbound for a week! I now have a fully developed chest infection – what a merry Christmas it will be for me! - but I couldn't bear the 'you haven't updated by the 13th!' messages any longer. Time jump of a week from the last chapter. Hope you like it.**

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><p><em><strong>17<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

The issue of Blair's wedding gown had been carefully avoided since she had arrived in England.

Unbeknownst to her, the dress had been almost completely ruined by a combination of a small leak in the ship's hull and rats, which had chewed their way through the wood in an effort to get to the sweet smelling material within. The hole that the rats had created had allowed the dress to be damaged by the leaking salt water, and was now stained an ugly yellow in many areas by rodent urine. The deviant little creatures had proceeded to chew into the material itself – effectively ruining it wholly and completely – and making a comfortable nest for themselves in the confines of the silk and lace that had not been soaked by water damage.

The gown had been worn by her sister on her wedding day, and their mother before that, and her mother before that, and her mother before that, and _her_ mother before that. Her

Jennifer had wept when she had unpacked the chest, mourning the loss of such a beloved item, and taken the problem immediately to Lily, who had promised to do her best to attain a new gown in time for the impending nuptials.

The wedding was in little over a week, and Blair was beginning to get anxious about the sacred white dress that had been her mother's. She had been told that it had not been unpacked, then that it had been lost, and she had flown into such a rage of indignation that no-one dared broach the subject again. Until now.

Her new dress was almost ready, with only minor alterations needed to fit the gown to her body like a second skin. And it was Lily who courageously braved her temper.

"I'm a pregnant woman," she had said to Chuck softly, "Blair will not be angry with me."

"Even so, I would rather you than me," he had replied wryly, scratching his chin as he did when he was nervous. "Though I do not see why you would have me there whilst you tell her."

"You are the one who will marry her. It will be your task as her husband to calm your wife when she carries children, to console her when she is at her most despaired and to love her when she feels she has not a soul to care for her. As man and wife, you will carry each other through all times of hardship."

Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Blair will not want to be carried. She is a strong, independent woman. It has caused quite the scandal."

Lily smiled indulgently at her stepson. "We women like to feel that we matter to the men in our lives."

"You do matter. _Blair _matters."

Lily's voice was gentle and her eyes understanding. "But does _she_ know that?"

...

To say that the conversation had started badly would be an understatement.

"You mean to say that my mother's dress, the dress that has been in my family for over two hundred years, has been ruined by _rats?_" Her voice was quiet and steely. "The _one_ thing I was able to control in this godforsaken wedding and now even that has been destroyed?"

"Yes," Lily replied sadly, taking the young woman's hand between both of hers. "But we have a replacement. It is in the French fashion, as you like, and is similar to your mother's – though decidedly a touch more modern. Charles helped with the design drawings, though he has not seen the finished product. Nor will he until the big day!"

Blair took a deep breath and her eyes flashed, and she launched into an angry tirade in French. The rant was not aimed at Lily or Chuck, rather the useless sailors who had placed her dress in such a careless place! The anger of the language hung in the air like a fog, filling every crevice in sight. She had kept her temper under wraps compared to this – this was how she _really_ felt.

Lily, knowing that this was the most emotional that Blair had allowed herself to get, was marginally satisfied. If Blair was allowing herself to be vulnerable to her emotions it meant that she was beginning to become comfortable with her environment, if only to the point where she would lose control of herself for a few moments.

Chuck had been standing silently in the doorway, gazing warily between two of the most influential women in his life. Until now, he had not even breathed out of turn. But as Blair's sharp tongue wrapped itself around the passionate French words, he became enraptured with her, with the heat in her face and the flames in her eyes. He knew that she had spoken several insults and found the situation rather comical. He exhaled roughly, the burst of air breaking the bubble of tension that had encased the three in the room. Blair glanced at him and her lips fell into a tight line as they appraised the lustful, wanting smirk that danced around his lips. She scoffed in disgust: of course he would enjoy this! He had known about this all along and had forsaken telling her!

She stormed to the window and stared out into the gardens below. "When can I see it?" Blair asked Lily in a clipped tone, trying her best to reign herself in and regain control of her mouth before she offended anyone further.

"Now, if it pleases you," Lily said gently, gesturing for one of Blair's ladies to fetch the dress.

"Not just the new gown," Blair whispered, "My mother's too."

...

Hot tears of anguish filled her eyes as she gazed up on the tattered garment. As her future stepmother-in-law had described, the dress was beyond recognition. Ivory silk that had been soft was now coarse and stained a putrid yellow. The elegant lace sleeves were chewed and peppered with holes. The bodice was the worst: a large hole had been torn from the middle, making it absolutely irreparable. She clutched the gown to her breast and sobbed over this severed connection with her mother and ancestors. It was as if she had lost a loved one; this dress had been the item that she and her sister had marvelled over all of their lives, and Blair had wept with joy when the gown had been worn again on Claude's wedding day. Their mother would have been so proud of her.

And now Blair herself had lost the chance to wear it. A cold ache chilled her limbs as if her heart itself had shattered into a million pieces, as if it was as torn and stained as the ruined piece of tatters that she held tightly in her arms as she would a newborn.

Both Lily and Chuck allowed her to grieve, refilling her goblet of mulled wine regularly as she tried to console herself. Chuck sat beside her on the elegant couch in her outer-chamber, a supportive hand on her knee and occasionally stroking her hair. Half of the jug of wine was gone before she declared herself ready to see the new gown, and Blair pressed a grateful kiss to her groom's cheek as he was banished from the room. She squeezed his hand and he smiled a small smile, winking at her in the wolf-like, boyish way that he sometimes did.

He would be a good husband, in time, Lily concluded inwardly, smiling at the sight of the two of them.

...

The new gown was breathtakingly beautiful.

Blair's chambers were silent as all women present gazed upon this god-sent creation.

The fabric hugged the curves of her body in an elegant, stylish way, in the French style that she favoured. The cut of the gown on her chest was square and low, pushing up her breasts in an alluring yet charming way.

She recognized some of the material from the sleeves from the skirt of her mother's dress. They were also made of lace, similar to the original, but four thin silken pinstripes held the material together. The skirt was in the traditional Tudor fashion, long and large with a train of lace that reached across the entire room, but the join of the corseted bodice and the skirt emphasized the smallness of her waist and the pretty roundness of her creamy breasts.

Her skin glowed in the confines of the gown, the rosy wine-flush in her cheeks serving only to add to her beauty.

This new dress made her look youthful, yet mature and womanly in an odd way that pleased her greatly. She found great comfort in the knowledge that the salvageable material from her mother's gown had been re-used in this awe-inspiring garment.

She turned to Lily and Serena, who had been summoned after Blair had finished weeping, and the two women squealed in delight.

"You look so beautiful!" Serena gushed. Lily pressed her daughter's hand to her swollen stomach suddenly, a smile lighting up her face. "The baby thinks so too!"

Lily was much further along in her pregnancy than anybody had realised. Her courses had been irregular to start with, and after the birth of all of her children they were unreliable at best! In consequence, she, nor her midwife, had been able to predict the birth-month of the child within her because of this irregularity. Lily had felt the baby move for the first time a week before Blair had arrived in England, a sign that the pregnancy was well into its fourth month, but now others could feel – and see – the kicks of the unborn child.

"He is strong!" Serena declared happily, taking Blair's hands and twirling her around the room as if they were partners at a grand dance.

"It could be a girl," Lily warned, her hand resting over the bump. "Everyone was convinced that you were a boy. Men from across the world told your father that you would be his third prince, and when you were a girl he was greatly relieved that your brothers would not have any male competition until they were a little older."

"Is that why you waited?" Blair asked suddenly. "After having Serena, you waited awhile before trying for another child. Why?" She blushed and bit her lip. "I am sorry, I am too forward."

Lily waved this comment off. "Nonsense, you are family," she assured her. "Serena's birth was a very difficult, long one. We were told it was unadvisable to try again for more children until my body had fully recovered from the great strain her birth caused."

"But surely that would only have been a year or so?" Serena added curiously.

"You did not let me finish," Lily admonished her with a smile. "I took with child soon after we started trying again. Bart is an incredibly vivacious man despite his age."

Serena wrinkled her nose in disgust but protested all the same. "Papa is not old, Mother. He would be hurt to hear you say such things."

"Your father is very young for his age, though he is a lot older than he looks." Her voice took on a sad tone as she thought of her first husband Rufus' premature death – he had died just months after their marriage, leaving Lily as the sole heir to his manors and wealth. Bart had been entranced with her, this young blonde beauty in his court that had eyes that marvelled at the ceremony and the riches. Theirs had been one of the true royal love stories; she, vulnerable and lonely after the death of her husband, and he, also a widower with two young boys who needed a mother figure – and there she had been with her moon eyes and her sunshine smile. There had been rumours that Lily was already a few months pregnant with Serena when she and Bart married, and these were set alight when Serena was born in the late March when their wedding had been in the October. But they had been married, and so Serena was announced the Princess Royal, and the couple had been blissfully happy ever since.

Blair smiled at Lily. "I hope that I am as happily married as you one day."

"I am sure you will be!" Lily reassured her with a laugh and a comforting hand on her arm.

Serena frowned. "Carry on with the story! What happened after you got pregnant again, Mama?"

Lily smiled at the familiar term her daughter was using – 'Mama' and 'Papa' were words reserved for showing affection, or trying to wheedle something out of her parents. In this case, however, it was daughterly love and affection, and genuine interest in her mother's tale. "God called the child from the world after a few months in my belly," she replied to her daughter sadly. "The miscarriage seemed to prove the theory that I could no longer bear children. Of course, I was heartbroken. But your father, wonderful man that he is, assured me that he loved me still and was happy with our family of five – us, the two boys and Serena. And then, just a couple of years later, little Henry was born. He was such a beautiful baby. Black curls and bright blue eyes, like yours, Serena."

"But he died," Serena said sullenly, her sunny face turning solemn.

"Before he was one year old, yes... He took his nightly feed from his wet nurse, and then was given to me to hold awhile. He was put down to sleep and just passed away in his crib. I was so upset and angry with the world. But your father consoled me. He told me that things like that happened, those babies that are sometimes so precious and special that God needs them in his great heavens to cheer him. I found great comfort in the Bible, and when a wonderful nun explained that my baby was safe in heaven and away from the pain and hardship of this world, peace wrapped itself around my heart and I eventually accepted what had happened. I loved your brother, Serena. I still do. He was my first male child. I think of him every day. And though I am saddened by not having all of my children with me, I am glad that he passed away peacefully, in his sleep without discomfort or anguish, rather than from the sweat or measles. And I thank the Lord Jesus that I held him and kissed him before he fell asleep that night. He died knowing that he was loved, God bless his soul."

Serena wrapped her arms around her mother and buried her face into Lily's shoulder. Blair sighed wistfully as she thought of her own mother, the embraces that they would share and the way her skin smelled of lavender.

Lily kissed the top of Serena's head and smiled at Blair. She extended a hand to the brunette and Blair took it, blinking in surprise when Lily pulled her into the hug. The three women embraced each other, and Blair did not know when she started to weep. She wept for the poor souls of her mother and father, and for Chuck's own beautiful mother, and of course for the babies that had not survived their first year of life.

"What about Annie and Jane?" Serena said, her voice muffled against her mother's gown.

"Your darling little sisters were a lovely surprise. Linacre said that my body was going through 'the change' and that I should not expect to have any more children. My mother had gone through hers at an early age and so it was thought that I would follow in her footsteps. But it was not to be! They were born as very healthy and beautiful baby girls a few months later, small but with very large characters! Anne would not be fed by her wet nurse; she adamantly refused to take any breast but my own. Your father was rather unhappy about that, but there wasn't much that he could do about it!" Lily giggled a little and sighed. "Then came Edward and Phillip – you are old enough to remember that. And now we have this little one."

"Will this be your last?" Blair asked her quietly, studying the elder blonde's face.

Lily shrugged and shook her head, smiling as she did so. "That is God's will. A woman's body is built for childbearing, and mine certainly does its job dutifully! In any case, Blair, the charge of producing heirs will soon be yours."

Blair pulled a face but did not reply. "I should like to get out of this dress now. I am fearful of dirtying it."

"Of course, of course. Come, Serena. We will pay your father a visit before you return to your lessons," Lily patted Blair on the arm and called for the servants to return to help her undress. "We shall see you later, dear Blair."

Chuck frowned as he read the note from Georgina. It was the fourth she had sent him that week, begging for a private audience with him.

He had thus far refused, knowing that 'private audiences' with beautiful women often ended with the two of them naked in his bed. No, he was trying his level best to be faithful to the woman he would marry, hard as he was finding it since there were many women flocking to the court trying to attain a place in Serena's newly established household.

His younger sister was being given her own apartments away from the confines of her bedroom within the royal nursery for her fourteenth birthday – just a month away, as well as another manor and another title. Personally, he was gifting her with a new horse, a black mare that was tall and thick-legged, bred from good stock. Andrew, in turn, had chosen a new saddle and bridle for the horse.

The arrangement that had been taken for the royal children of Bart and Lily was an unusual one.

In other countries, once a child reached a couple of months old, they were removed from the court and placed in their own separate household, a grand manor that would serve as the home for the heirs to the throne until they came of age and could return to the court. Chuck and Andrew had lorded over Hatfield for the first years of their lives, until a fire burned down the manor when Andrew was three years old.

Lily could not bear to be parted from her children, and so in the case of Serena – and the siblings that followed her – the nursery and schooling of the royal infants had taken place at the same court that their parents resided in. All children over the age of six took their meals in the banquet hall on the dais, beneath the Tudor canopy of estate, (though Bart and Lily sometimes insisted on taking their meals in the nursery so that all nine of them, parents and children alike, could eat together as a family). Serena was thus being taken out of the nursery upon the turn of her next birthday, when she would be officially betrothed. Her wedding would take place between her fifteenth and sixteenth birthday, depending on the man that she chose to marry and his age.

Chuck grimaced as he thought of his little sister being married off. At least their father had been genial enough to allow her to choose her own groom, rather than using her to improve the standing of England as he had with Chuck and Andrew's marriages.

Andrew was to be married in September, seven and a half months after his own marriage to Blair, to the Infanta Philippa, the eighteen year old daughter of the Emperor. His father had chosen well, Chuck thought bitterly: two foreign princesses – heirs to the thrones of their own country in their own right - set to produce doubly royal blooded heirs to the English throne.

Bart came off as a real 'family man' Chuck mused, but he, the oldest son, knew the real reason for the family meal times, the extensive number of children and their education taking place within the grasp of their parents and the foreign brides... Bart wanted no question as to the lineage of his grandchildren. He would not risk civil war within England again, nor the troubles that had plagued the crown for centuries. The more heirs to the throne within the family – and the stronger the familial connections between those heirs – the stronger the family became. During the time of King Richard II, his cousin Henry Herford had set to displace him from the throne, and succeeded, because of his own rights to the crown – Bart would not risk this happening again. His children would be brought up together, as an impenetrable unit that supported each other.

And Chuck marrying Blair, a Princess of France, was the first step in his grand plan. Chuck knew this – he had heard his father plotting with Thomas More and Cardinal Wolsey, had heard the words come from his very mouth – and it was that that made him resent the _idea_ of marrying Blair. He longed for Blair herself, he thought she was brilliant and beautiful and captivating... but knowing that he _had_ to marry her because it was what his father wanted made a part of him flame in anger.

The issue of Serena's marriage made him unbearably jealous because he wished that he had been able to choose his own bride, as she was able to choose the man she would marry, and it made him so unhappy knowing that he was blaming Blair for this, blaming her for being in the exact same situation that he was.

He thought back to Lily's earlier words.

"_You are the one who will marry her. It will be your task as her husband to calm your wife when she carries children, to console her when she is at her most despaired and to love her when she feels she has not a soul to care for her. As man and wife, you will carry each other through all times of hardship."_

_Chuck raised an eyebrow. "Blair will not want to be carried. She is a strong, independent woman. It has caused quite the scandal."_

_Lily smiled indulgently at her stepson. "We women like to feel that we matter to the men in our lives."_

"_You do matter. Blair matters."_

_Lily's voice was gentle and her eyes understanding. "But does __she__ know that?"_

This realisation bonded him to her in a completely different way than the lust and admiration he felt towards her, knowing that she too had not chosen this fate, that she had had no control over who she married, having to bend to the will of her own father and then her brother in law. It made him want to be there for her, to tell her that he understood the loneliness she felt in this foreign land away from her sister and nephew and the friends she had had.

And suddenly he had to see her, he had to hold her and kiss her and tell her how he felt, tell her how _beautiful_ she was on the inside and out.

...

She was surprised when he burst through the door, his hair in disarray as if he had run his fingers through it and his face flushed, an urgent expression etched across his features.

Blair raised an amused eyebrow as she knelt at her feet, pressing his lips to her wrist. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words caught in his throat as he struggled to think what to say.

"Chuck?" she asked him gently, "Are you well?"

"I'm in love with you, Blair." He opened and closed his mouth in shock, not believing what his mouth had said without permission. "Uh..." He trailed off at the slow smile that was working its way across Blair's face.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips.

He responded to the kiss and cupped her face with his palm, pressing his other hand to the small of her back, holding her tightly against him. The fire roared behind them as they knelt together on the floor, locked in a passionate embrace. The two of them were alone in the room: the twelve ladies and two grooms around them had faded away. No, it was just the two of them, the fur rug on the floor and the fire.

"Oh God," Blair whimpered against his skin as she held her, his fingers combing through her loose dark hair. "I feel so relieved."

At the use of the unexpected word, Chuck pulled his face back so that he could look her in the eyes. "Relieved?"

Blair bit her lip. "I was so afraid that I would be marrying a man who did not care for me, who did not _love_ me. But now you are here and have told me your true feelings, and my heart is bursting with happiness, because, well, _I love you too_."

"You do?"

"Yes, though I cannot fathom why," she replied with a teasing smile. "This was rather... _unexpected_, Chuck. You have startled my poor ladies!"

He blushed a little. "I needed to see you." He brushed his fingers against her collar bone and she sighed when the tips trailed under the edge of her dress to the soft skin beneath, and she shivered at the tender caress.

Blair pushed a hair back from his face and kissed the tip of his nose, a smirk pulling up the corners of her lips. "Chuck," she whispered softly. "We are to be married in little over a week."

"It cannot come soon enough."

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><p><strong>This isn't where I planned on taking this chapter, but Chuck decided that he wanted to declare his undying love and I just couldn't talk him out of it. I'm really trying to show the natural progession of their relationship in a realistic way.<strong>

**I'll try to update again before the 25th but if I don't manage it: Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays / Happy Hanukah to all of my reviewers!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Is everyone ready for Wedding Bells?**

**PS - I'm very sorry for the amount of time it took me to update. I had a chest infection, and then a family crisis, and then the mumps! Please leave reviews, I've worked so hard to make this chapter perfect.**

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><p><em><strong>25<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

Chuck frowned as Lily straightened his gold collar for the third time. He raised an eyebrow as she dabbed at her eyes – yet again – and smirked when Serena snorted.

"You have become a fine man, Charles," Lily said with a happy sigh, patting his cheek lovingly. "You shall make us all proud today."

Bart smirked at his son, rolling his eyes at his tearful wife. "Please, Lily. You will embarrass the boy."

...

Jennifer bent and tied Blair's stockings just above her knees, pulling the ribbons that would hold them up into small, delicate bows. Blair stepped into her shoes - tall and in the French style - and winced as all of the blood in her feet rushed to her toes. Rubies were hooked into her ears and then Blair nodded at the Royal dressers.

"Proceed," she said quietly, standing as still as she could as layer after layer of clothing was placed around her body. First the chemise, then the petticoat, then the farthingale. Blair crossed her arms over her chest, holding the corset tightly to her body as two of her ladies pulled the laces tight. When she could no longer breathe out completely without pain, she nodded in satisfaction. "You'll have to loosen the knot later, Jen," she murmured under her breath to the blonde woman. "Before we retire for the night."

Jennifer bowed her head. "Of course, madam."

"Now the dress," she said quietly, holding her arms up and bending her knees a little so that it could be passed over her head.

Once she was dressed, Blair sighed deeply. "Wine, please." She finished the goblet and closed her eyes as her ladies applied her makeup.

"You look beautiful, Madam," Jennifer gushed, rearranging the folds of Blair's gown.

"Indeed," Andrew commented from the door, his eyes wide and his mouth open. "My brother is a very fortunate man."

Blair smiled at him gratefully, taking a deep sip of wine. "Thank you. I am nervous." Andrew tilted his head at her heavily accented English – under normal circumstances, Blair's English was almost perfect with only a hint of French, but today her mouth struggled with the English words.

"Why?" He asked her curiously, taking her hand and leading her to a chair. "You have no need to be nervous. Chuck is a good man; he will treat you well, you have no need to fear of that."

Blair pulled a face. "Perhaps." Spying her sister-in-law, Blair excused herself from the conversation and approached Marguerite. She touched the woman on the arm and drew her away from the large number of people that were crammed into her chambers.

"How are you, Blair?" Marguerite asked her softly, and Blair shrugged, not replying. "You can tell me, you know," she assured her, lowering her voice.

"I wish my father and sister were here. And my beautiful nieces, so that they could throw petals on the ground before me," Blair admitted in a shaky tone, closing her eyes and willing away the tears.

Marguerite squeezed her hand supportively. "I have something for you," she murmured. She nodded at one of her ladies and the woman passed her an ornate wooden trunk. Marguerite delved inside and produced a velvet pouch of the finest purple. She passed it to Blair with a smile. "A wedding gift, from your father. Claude instructed me to give this to you after the ceremony, but I believe that now is as good a time as any. I shall leave you to your privacy, sister. When we meet again, you shall be a married woman and a princess of England." Marguerite wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law. "Good luck," she whispered in her ear, kissing her on the cheek.

Blair shook her head and smiled, sitting down in a chair by a window. She opened the pouch slowly, afraid of what she would find inside, and delved her hand inside.

She swallowed thickly and withdrew her fingers. She was holding one of her mother's necklaces. It was such a beautiful item, one that her mother had been painted wearing, and tears sprang to Blair's eyes. She called one of her ladies over to fasten the necklace around her neck and beamed at her reflection in the mirror.

It was as if her father had predicted that her betrothal to Charles would hold, as well as the issue of her ruined wedding dress, for this particular jewel of her mother's matched the new gown perfectly. The golden chain was thinner than was fashionable - perfectly excusable considering it was at least twenty years old - and the jewels were larger than anything that was worn in the present day, but the grandeur of the necklace clearly showed Blair's status as a Princess, both of England and of France.

"My dear sister-to-be," Andrew called cheerily from across the room, "It is time."

...

The bride's journey to Westminster Abbey was displayed as part of an elaborate procession through the city of London, and despite the cold the common people flocked in their thousands to catch a glimpse of the first royal wedding in well over a decade. Indeed, this was the first 'purely royal' wedding to take place in England for sometime, with one crowned monarch marrying another.

Blair's particular carriage was open topped (something she was decidedly worried about considering the temperamental English weather and the seemingly millions of pigeons and gulls that flew overhead) and she waved to the people of London, keeping her smile plastered on her face even as she shivered beneath her white fur wrap - a premature wedding gift from Lily, who had decided that very morning that the wedding day was cold enough to warrant the early gift-giving.

Though Blair was fully used to city processions and loud, crowded places, the narrow streets of London added to the massive amounts of people lining them made her heart race in her chest. It was just so _cramped_, and Blair was almost fearful of the people who called out blessings because of the sheer volume of them. Andrew smiled supportively at her and squeezed her hand, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, even wearing a plain black cloak - granted it was a _silk_ black cloak, but a black cloak nonetheless - at Chuck's request to cover his robes of state so as to keep the attention of the city on Blair.

Chuck's own carriage and those that had ferried the royal brood to the Abbey, on the other hand, had travelled a different, quieter route, so as to make Blair the focus of the wedding day. He wanted the people to see her; to see her beauty and her strength and to envy him because he was to become her husband. He wanted the people to love her because she would be their queen one day and so would rule beside him.

...

Blair took a deep breath when her carriage pulled to a half outside of Westminster Abbey, the great resting place of so many people.

Andrew took off his cloak and stepped out onto the ground, wrinkling his nose a little at the smell from the river, even though it was almost a mile away. He offered a hand to Blair and helped her down from the carriage, waving away the two footmen who sprang forwards to help her. Once safely on the ground, Blair looked up in awe at the Abbey that towered over her and the rest of London.

She shrugged off her own fur cloak and Andrew draped it over the arm of one of the affore-mentioned footmen.

"Are you ready?" he asked her with a grin, holding his hand parallel to the floor so that Blair could place her palm over the back of his hand.

In this moment, Blair thought of the man that awaited her at the end of the aisle: the eyes that set her soul alight, the hands that had the ability to calm her and yet could stir up such a storm within her that it made her shudder to think of it, the arms that held her tightly...

Andrew clicked his fingers in front of Blair's eyes and she bit her lip and blushed. "I have my reply, then," Andrew answered for her teasingly; her anticipation and excitement had been evident in her glazed over expression!

...

Bart and Lily sat on the thrones to the right side of the Abbey so that the pews and all those who had come to witness the ceremony were to their left. They had already cooed at their twin daughters who had scattered white rose petals down the aisle, and now they were awaiting the arrival of the bride.

Lily glowed in her purple gown, one hand placed lovingly on her stomach and the other clasping Bart's. "Do you remember our wedding day?" she said with a tearful smile, trying and failing to blink back her tears.

Bart gazed at his wife in adoration, and dabbed at her eyes with his own royal 'kerchief. "I remember it fondly," he replied, never a man of unnecessary words. He squeezed his wife's hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing her palm softly.

"Oh, look at me," Lily murmured in embarassment, "Getting over-excited and the ceremony hasn't even started. What a sentimental old woman I am."

Bart shook his head, smiling and scoffing. "Well, my dear wife, if you are old then I am positively ancient. And besides; it is not all your fault. You are pregnant - you cannot be blamed for the odd tear."

Lily's eyes softened and she smiled in return, glancing down at her stomach. "Do you think it is a boy or a girl this time?"

"Oh, I don't know," Bart mused, "We have plenty of both and we love them all. No matter the sex, our newest addition shall be well cared for."

"Is this to be the last addition, then?" Lily wondered, raising an eyebrow pointedly at her beloved husband.

Bart shrugged but his eyes glinted wickedly, his gaze lingering on her breasts for a moment too long. He smirked at her and a blush heated her face. "That is in God's hands, my love." He squeezed her hand and saw some of the guards motion conspicuously towards the entrance. "I do believe our guest of honour has arrived."

...

Chuck stood at the top of the aisle with Nathaniel Archibald and Carter Baizen, both of whom had been raised to the peerage as earls in celebration of the royal union. Whilst Carter was conversationally pointing out the benefits of bedding virgins, Nathaniel and Chuck were silent, bemused and a little disgusted at Carter's ramblings.

"Shut up, Carter," Nate hissed finally, elbowing Carter in the ribs. "You're being obscene."

Serena caught Nate's eye from her place on the very front pew, she smiled shyly. "Hello," she mouthed, lowering her eyes for a moment as if she had curtsied. He nodded his head once and smiled back at her, and she blushed.

Chuck nodded at Carter and Nate to sit down - he could handle standing alone now. He was prepared.

He turned his head slightly in time to see his father twist his head to the bottom of the Abbey - where Andrew was currently standing with the bride ready to walk her up the aisle - and he took a deep breath.

...

"Off we go," Andrew muttered wryly, lifting his foot to take the first step down the aisle.

"Wait!" Blair hissed, tugging him back. "My veil! Fix my veil!" He arranged the piece of material over her face and raised an amused eyebrow. He went to take another step, but she pulled him back again. "Just so you know, I wouldn't normally ask this of you, but do I look... adequate?"

He bent and pressed a supportive kiss to the back of her hand. "A more beautiful bride before there was never."

She nodded and took a deep breath, fixing him with an almost panicked look. "Then proceed."

They walked slowly - not so slowly that it was out of time and clumsy, not so fast as that those who had come to bear witness to the union could not appreciate her perfect figure in her beautiful gown. Awed gasps and envious 'ahs' filled the Abbey, and it was only when someone loudly whispered "Isn't she a vision?" that Chuck turned around and looked at her.

His eyes raked from her toes to her face, his own gaze meeting hers despite the veil shielding her face from his full view. His mouth fell open at such a sight of _perfection_, and it was only Bart's piercing gaze (which, even though he couldn't see, he could feel burning into his scalp) that stopped him from meeting her halfway down the aisle.

After what seemed an age, Andrew and Blair reached Chuck, and when Andrew had placed Blair's hand in Chuck's he took his seat beside his sisters, smiling adoringly at his mother who was dabbing at her eyes already.

...

The ceremony itself was simple and beautiful, short enough not to bore the younger nobles but long enough that the vows were significant and binding. As they said the words that would hold them together, their eyes never left the other's, their hands permanently clasped between their bodies.

Chuck pledged his love to her until death parted them, and he was sure as he said the words that he meant them, completely and absolutely, and was thrilled that he had found someone as beautiful and as strong-willed as Blair that, for some reason, loved him back. In that very moment, Chuck devoted himself to her; his love, his fidelity, his soul.

Blair's eyes had been filled with tears through the whole thing, though not one had been shed. The conviction in her voice made Chuck sure that she wanted the same things as he did - to love and be loved in return.

Had it not been his wedding day, he would have laughed bitterly at the irony of two people as powerful as they wanting something as simple as love.

But want it he did, and when he kissed her lips in front of every single person who had gathered to witness this French Princess wed an English Prince, he had never been so sure of anything as he was of his love for her.

...

The journey back to Greenwich passed in a blur. The two young newlyweds could barely keep their hands off of eachother, and it was only the coughs of their carriage-driver that stopped them from consummating their marriage right then and there! Even the celebratory shouts of the masses gathered in the streets did not deter their wandering hands, and by the time they had reached the Palace, they were both ready for bed.

Blair's face was flushed with lust and she tugged off the gloves that she had worn for the ceremony, her fingers trailing up and down Chuck's throat. "Do you think your father would mind awfully if we were late for the feast?"

Chuck considered this. "He wouldn't mind at all, my love," he growled in her ear, peppering kisses along her neck. "_I, _however, _would_."

Blair tried to mask the instant hurt that flooded her, but Chuck's next words returned the heat to her face. "Because, my dear Princess, once I have you in my bed I do not plan on letting you leave for a very, very long while. Can you content yourself with that?" He tucked a stray hair behind her ear and kissed her chastely, fighting the smirk from his face even as his mouth tried to disobey Princess struggled for words and Chuck drawled out a rare laugh. "I thought so. How does it feel to be a married woman, your Highness?"

"How does it feel to be a married _man, _your Highness?" Blair countered with her own smirk, rolling her eyes as Chuck's hands again somehow found their way beneath her skirts. She slapped them away lightly this time rather than letting him tease her, and bit her lip when he ravished the exposed skin of her chest with kisses.

Her head fell back and she tried not to moan as he nibbled her collarbone, chuckling darkly against her skin. "You have to stop," she said breathily, "Or I shall drag you to bed myself and we shall miss the wedding feast completely."

Chuck groaned but loosened his grip on her. "You are too tempting, my dear wife."

Blair's eyes gazed into his, her dark hypnotizing stare piercing his soul. "We shall leave the wedding feast as soon as dark sets. I do not care for ceremony when the only company I long for is that of my husband."

"Your Highness' wish is my command," Chuck replied throatily, kissing her deeply again.

It was as if Blair suddenly noticed their surroundings and gasped, pushing Chuck's face from hers. "We have arrived back at the palace, Chuck. Come. The sooner we eat, the sooner we are to bed."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sooo nervous about how I wrote this chapter. I didn't write the vows out because I didn't think that Chuck and Blair needed them - I think (hope) that the way I described the ceremony was powerful enough to show their love for each other. <strong>

**It's a little short, but the wedding night has yet to come. I thought it best to seperate them because both the wedding and the sex that will follow are very significant events' and to have them together would take away the importance of either one.**

**Hope you liked it!**

**Review please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Aww! Your reviews are so lovely, thank you so much for all of your continued support. **

**Just a warning? LEMON below... **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>25<strong>__**th**__** February 1519 (continued ...)**_

They had arrived back at Greenwich in the last hour of daylight. Blair stayed outside the palace for as long as she was physically able, giving golden coins to as many unfortunate commoners as she could, until the sun began to set and the early spring evening crept in around them. Despite her protests that she was perfectly able to remain outside a while longer, her violent shivers from the cold said otherwise and Chuck had to practically carry her back into the castle.

He demanded that a physician check her over; being amongst the poorer members of London had put her at risk of illness and plague, and he was terrified of his new bride taking ill before she had had the chance to receive her well deserved gifts.

Dr Linacre only needed to glance at Blair to know that she was fit and well, though carried out an extensive and pointless examination just to appease Prince Charles. "She is well, your Highness, and in my opinion should continue on into the wedding feast."

Chuck nodded and produced a piece of material.

"Chuck," Blair giggled as Chuck wound it over her eyes, preventing her from seeing anything. "What on earth are you doing?" He kissed her neck and she smiled. "That is not a reply."

"Relax," Chuck murmured, "Patience is a virtue, dear wife."

Beneath the blindfold, Blair rolled her eyes. "It is a virtue that I do not possess."

"Even so, your husband begs you to be silent and to trust him." Chuck kissed her again, and guided her into the banquet hall.

Chuck raised a finger to his lips, reminding everyone to be silent. "Blair, if I could grant you one wish, what would it be?"

"To be able to see my sister and my country every day for the rest of my life," She replied instantly. "Being apart from them breaks my heart."

"I thought so," Chuck said, his voice quiet in her ear. He spun her so that her back was to the room and gestured for Serena to untie the blindfold. "Turn around."

Blair turned and tears sprang to her eyes. "How did you do this?" She whispered in awe, stepping forward and tracing her fingers gently across the painted canvas. There, encased in a frame of gold, was a portrait of her and Claude. It was not a 'posed' painting; on the contrary, it was as if it had been done in secret, from quite a distance away. They were walking in the gardens of Blair's own castle in Brittany, and the blooming flowers that surrounded them were a clear indication that it had been done in the early summer. In the background was the small river that babbled its way through the castle grounds, and even further back in the portrait Blair could see the window where she and her sister would sit as children, doing their embroidery or reading, sometimes simply enjoying the company of the other. On the inside of the window stood a the silhouette of a man wearing a crown, and a tear trailed its way down her pale cheek as she touched the outline of her Father.

It was such a bittersweet moment – to be so near her sister and yet so far away, to see her father on canvas and yet know that he was no longer part of the mortal world, to be able to touch her most favourite and sacred of places and yet not being there experiencing it for herself.

The portrait was huge; big enough to fill a whole wall, and it was as if she was gazing into her own memories. The longer she looked at it, the more she could see. Hidden amongst the trees was the swing her Father had personally crafted for her; the stone bench by the patch of daisies that had once upon a time been planted by her mother; the goldfish pond filled with fish; the carving of "L+A" in the trunk of a tree by the river that her father had done when he had discovered her mother was pregnant for the second time; even the sweet yellow songbirds that whistled their beautiful music for Blair to listen to had been captured perfectly.

"It is a gift from Chuck," Serena said softly from beside her, slipping her arm through Blair's. "Papa obtained permission from your sister to visit the castle where you grew up. Master Holbein spent over a week sketching all of the little details. Claude told him of all of your favourite places, that is why the canvas is so large. Chuck wanted you to feel like you had a piece of your home here with you."

Blair gazed at her husband, absolute love blazing in her eyes. "But... my childhood home... the image of my father in the window..." She closed her eyes, her lip trembling.

Chuck wrapped his arms around her, sensing her need for support. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, hiding her face from the onlookers. Chuck gestured for his father to recapture the attention of the courtiers and lowered his lips to Blair's ear. "Blair..."

He was cut off by a tender kiss, and smiled adoringly down at his new wife. Blair shook her head and tried to blink away her tears, greatly humbled by this incredible gesture. "Thank you for the best gift that I have ever received. You have granted me my deepest desire. I am eternally grateful and in your debt, your Highness." He furrowed his brow at her use of the formal term, but she continued. "I can never repay the great happiness that you have bestowed upon me. I shall treasure it always. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you as overjoyed as you have made me in this very moment."

"I can assure you, your pleasure is mine," Chuck replied quietly, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

"When did you commission this?" Blair asked him quietly, her fingers toying with the collar of his doublet.

Chuck bit his lip and looked away sheepishly. "A while ago... though Master Holbein only completed the portrait a few weeks ago when he was able to see your face for the first time."

Blair eyed him in wonder. "So even though you did not want to marry me, you still wanted to give me so special a gift?"

"I wanted you to be happy here," He replied defensively, unwilling to admit that he had been thrilled to be marrying her all along (after all, it was the _idea_ of being forced into marriage that he disliked, not Blair herself). "I wanted to give you something that would make you smile."

"Then you have succeeded, my Lord," Blair said softly, her eyes shining with tears again.

The French Ambassador cleared his throat behind them, and Chuck flushed a little in irritation at being interrupted during such an intimate moment. Blair wrinkled her nose at Chuck's reaction and smiled invitingly at the man. "Ambassador?" she asked him politely. "What is it?"

The Ambassador bowed lowly. "I have a gift for you, your Highnesses. From their royal Majesties of France." He gestured for two trunks to be brought over to them and Blair's eyes widened. "With your permission?"

"Of course," Chuck said, his eyes widening as the trunks were opened. They were full to the brim with parcels, some larger than others. He went to open one of them, but Blair laid a hand on his arm.

"Not now, Chuck. Please? I would like for us to open them together, in private." She pouted her lips as he sighed, but knew she had won when he smiled his delicious half smile at her.

"How can I refuse when you look at me like that? You will have your every will, my Princess," he replied, his palm cupping her cheek as he dipped his head to kiss her. She bit her lip in reply, lowering her eyes bashfully. "Have these taken to our rooms," Chuck ordered a passing groom, and the man nodded.

"Thank you for the gifts, Ambassador." Blair placed a hand on his arm. "May we talk later?"

The Ambassador nodded and pressed a kiss to the back of Blair's hand. He bowed again and excused himself.

"Blair?" Serena reappeared at her side, a beaming smile on her face. "I have something for you."

"Later, Serena," Chuck answered for his wife, aiming to pull Blair away so that he could lavish her mouth with kisses, but Blair stopped him.

She had seen Serena's smile fall from her lips and was saddened to think she was the cause. "Serena, you do not have to give me a gift," she admonished her new sister. She kissed Chuck's cheek lightly and excused herself. Once they were out of his hearing, she pulled Serena to the side. "I am sorry for your brother's behaviour. It was not prudent."

Serena brushed this comment off with a shrug. "He's my older brother. I am used to it." She grinned excitedly. "I hope you like your gift."

"I will love it regardless of what it is," Blair replied with a smile, glancing at her curiously.

Serena nodded at one of her attendants – her favourite maid that she had pilfered from the nursery when she had become old enough to have her own apartments – and beamed as the gifts were produced. Two wriggling King Charles spaniel pups were placed in Blair's arms, and she was immediately in love with them. She held a pup in each arm, cradling them like they were babies and not dogs, cooing lovingly at their sleepy eyes and soft coats.

"They're sisters," Serena offered, delighted that Blair was so pleased with her present. Chuck stared at her expectantly. "What is it, brother?"

"Do _I _not get a gift?" he asked her pointedly, a smile hovering around his lips and so betraying how he really felt. "People seem to have forgotten that I too got married today."

Blair poked out her tongue playfully. "Jealousy is a sin, Charles."

Serena smirked at Chuck. "Of course I have a gift for you." The same groom who had brought the spaniels now brought a Greyhound pup into the banquet hall, and Chuck beamed at his younger sister. "Do you like him?"

"He is very fine," Chuck replied happily, bending down and stroking the dog. "What'll I name him?"

"We have to name mine first!" Blair insisted. "They're so delightful. Thank you, Serena."

"What about 'Ruby' for one of them?" Chuck suggested.

"And 'Pearl' for the other?" Serena added hopefully, for her and Chuck both knew that the twins had chosen to give Blair collars for the dogs, one made from red velvet and the other from white leather.

Blair was delighted by these names. "Perfect," she replied, cooing again at the little puppies. "They need to sleep." Chuck gestured for one of her ladies to come and retrieve the pups and Blair sighed sadly. "Oh, but they are so sweet!" She frowned sadly as she passed them gently into Jennifer's hands. "Be careful with them!"

Jennifer nodded and smiled. "Yes, my lady."

Chuck intertwined his fingers with Blair's and kissed her on the cheek as she watched wistfully after her little gifts. "They will be fine," he said to her with a chuckle, "There is a bed waiting for them in your chambers. Little Edward chose that, but he was too young to attend today."

"Chuck!" Serena chided him, "You shouldn't give it away!"

Blair could see this descending into an argument and hastily changed the subject. "What of your pup, Chuck? What'll his name be?"

"Duke," Chuck said decisively. He scratched the dog affectionately behind its ears and motioned for it to be taken from the banquet hall. Catching the eye of his father, Chuck pulled Blair over to where the King and Lily were standing. "Your Majesties," he greeted pleasantly, smiling in amusement when Blair curtsied deeply and remained so.

"I must thank your gracious Majesties for this morning and for the delicious meal we will eat within the hour. You are most generous, and I am so grateful to be welcomed into your family."

Bart pulled Blair from her curtsey and kissed her on both cheeks. "Your father would have been very proud of you. I wish he could have been here." Bart was shocked into silence when Blair flung her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely, tears finally escaping her eyes. Chuck rubbed her back soothingly and Bart comforted her like she was his own daughter. Lily too was reduced to tears, though hers were sobs compared to Blair's gentle shudders. Blair was flushed when she finally let go, and Bart kissed her on the forehead. "I hope you can be happy here, dearest Blair."

She nodded in reply and allowed Chuck to enfold her in his arms. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, kissing her earlobe gently.

"I love you too," Blair murmured, turning her face to his. She pressed her lips chastely against his mouth and sighed happily. "Today has been wonderful."

Chuck laughed. "We haven't even eaten yet."

"That doesn't matter. They could serve pheasant and I wouldn't care." His expression stole the smile from her face. "Did I say something wrong?"

"You mean you don't like pheasant?"

Blair pulled a face. "Too fattening; your English birds are overfed to make them as plump as possible. We french like our meat soft and tender, and a little less cooked." She smiled at a memory, but glanced up at Chuck's anxious face. "What is it?"

"I think they are serving pheasant, actually," he replied. "Curse those blasted chefs. I _told_ them that you would prefer pork, but father insisted that pheas-"

Blair cut him off with a kiss. "Hush, my love. I will partake in a little pheasant if it pleases you. It is just meat."

"But this is not 'just' a feast; it is our wedding feast, and I so wanted everything to be perfect for you."

"Already this day is the most spectacular day of my life! The issue of a couple of cooked fowl do not bother me as much as my husband's sullen face." Blair grasped his chin gently between her thumb and forefinger. "Now smile, and think of the night to come."

...

Much to her surprise, Blair enjoyed the pheasant. It wasn't as tender as her favoured French meats, but it was nice all the same.

Chuck eyed her as she sipped at her wine, trying to keep her eyes to the table as much as possible. To do otherwise was to invite conversation and thus postpone their bedtime further.

"When are we to bed, my beautiful wife?" he asked her politely, as if he was asking her about the weather. "Soon, I hope?"

An emotion flashed through Blair's eyes, but she hid it quickly. "Yes, if you like."

Chuck covered Blair's hand on the table with his own, and glanced at her in concern. "We can stay here for as long as you wish it. You can be honest with me, you know. I believe honesty is the very definition of true love."

"It isn't that," Blair replied, "I just do not want to rush things. All of these people are here to celebrate the union of two countries, not just the union of a prince and a princess. I feel as if I owe it to them to stay awhile and rejoice with them. With our marriage, our countries have been tied together. In the marriage contract that both my father and Francis have signed, it stipulates that if one country goes to war, the other must follow out of loyalty and blood relations, and I think that that is something to truly be happy about. We are safe from attack from Italy and Spain, not to mention the Hapsburgs and the Scots: no nation is so desperate for annihilation that they would threaten a country that is guaranteed protection by another."

Chuck nodded. "I agree... The union of France and England is most definitely something to be celebrated."

"Chuck," Blair said tightly, "You know what I mean. I have never known happiness like that I have felt today, knowing that the rest of our lives stretches out before us. We have started as we mean to go on, and that is such a beautiful thing." She wasn't yet ready to end the day that had become the first day of the rest of her life; she wanted to savour every drop until she could bear the anticipation no longer. Chuck seemed to understand and nodded, smiling reassuringly at her. In truth, they were both nervous of broaching the gap that would forever alter their entwined fates.

"You are incredible," Chuck replied, pressing a kiss to her palm. Blair closed her eyes at the feel of his lips on her skin, and he hid his smirk behind his own goblet, his eyes scanning the room for Nathaniel.

To look for Carter would be futile – he was already gone, bedding one of Serena's older ladies in waiting. His lust for virgins was despicable and a little worrying, and even though Chuck valued him greatly as a friend, he vowed to never leave Carter alone with Serena, Anne or Jane, as well as any daughters that he had in the future.

Much to his surprise, Nathaniel was dancing with Serena, holding her much too close for Chuck's liking. Serena herself was smiling like she had never smiled before, and Blair laid a warning hand on his arm as Chuck adjusted himself in his seat. "Leave them be," she said quietly, "They like each other, they are chaperoned, and they are young." Chuck was unmoved, and he raised an eyebrow to show it. Blair changed her approach. "Just let them dance, if just for tonight. Seeing Serena so happy makes _me_ happy." His expression softened a little and she smiled a small smile at her husband. "Let them dance, Chuck. For me?"

He leaned towards her and kissed her gently, like she was breakable. "I would do anything for you," he said to her, the intensity in his eyes setting a fire in her heart.

"Would you dance with me?" Blair asked him teasingly, laughing in surprise when he tugged her to her feet. The courtiers stood with them, bowing and curtseying and clapping their approval.

"Come, dear wife, let us dance." Chuck pulled her tightly against his chest, their bodies pressing together.

Chuck twirled her around so much that all of the other dancers were forced to simply sit and admire their crowned Prince and his Princess as they put all others to shame with their beauty.

Seeing them together made the onlooker smile, even those onlookers who did not wish the French Princess well. Wolsey grinned in spite of himself at the sight of the young couple, thinking of his beloved mistress and their two children. The Duke of Norfolk – arguably the hardest and coldest man at court – pulled his wife onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her with more passion and holding her more tightly than he had in years. Even King Bart himself, who had controversially decided to allow his son and daughter-in-law to have the top table to themselves on their special day and sat amongst the nobles rather than under the canopy of estate as he was due, kissed his wife fiercely in full view of everyone present: so contagious was the happy mood.

The atmosphere began to change, and it was a change so subtle that not even the married couple noticed it until lust cloaked their every thought.

They began to press their bodies together with more enthusiasm as the music intensified, the Volta playing twice consecutively at Blair's authoritative nod. The other dancers had no choice but to obey the pattern of the music, following the steps of the two royals who were clearly mentally undressing each other.

Blair eventually yawned and looked at Chuck meaningfully, and his eyes widened. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, her breath hot against his skin. "I am tired," she murmured in her low, sultry voice, her heavily lidded black eyes burning into his. "And I am ready to become your wife in every sense of the word."

"You are?" Chuck said throatily, kissing the pulse-point on her neck.

"Yes," Blair replied breathily, and Chuck felt his lower body stiffen. "Yes, I am ready."

Chuck turned suddenly and moved himself and Blair towards his father and stepmother. "With your Majesties' permission, we will retire for the night."

Both Bart and Chuck blushed at this, and Lily smiled kindly at the Princess. "Of course. Sleep well."

_On the contrary, your Majesties', I wish to sleep but little,_ a sinful voice in Blair's head responded, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from saying the words out loud. Chuck saw the naughty smirk spread its way across the face of his beloved and could not help but grin too.

...

Chuck and Blair entered Blair's apartments hand in hand, smiling at each other.

There was only Jennifer present, and Blair ushered Chuck into her bedchamber so that Jennifer could remove some of the more complicated, less desirable layers of clothing that she was wearing. The little maid stripped her madam down to her bare body and stockings, and then lowered the wedding gown over Blair's head for the second time that day, though this time beneath the dress Blair was naked.

Jennifer tied the dress loosely, and gestured towards the two jugs of wine when she had finished. "If there is anything that you require during the night, my lady, please do not hesitate to wake me."

Blair smiled and cupped the face of the blonde woman. "Thank you, Jennifer. I shall see you in the morning."

Whilst it was improper that Blair would be unattended during the night – it was required that one of her ladies be with her at all times – Jennifer knew that there was nothing more that she could do and detected a definitive tone of dismissal in Blair's words.

"Goodnight, my lady."

Blair took a deep breath. She knew that he would make it special for her, maybe even pleasurable, and for the first time since she had arrived in England, she actually found herself grateful that Chuck had sexual experience; he would know what to do (not that she didn't; the logics were pretty simple) and would know how to please her in ways that she had never thought possible. She only hoped that she was able to do the same thing in return.

...

Blair pulled the curtains to her bedchamber open slowly, half expecting Chuck to jump out and scare her. He was lounging on her bed, laid on his back but propped up on his elbows.

She stepped forwards and pulled the curtains closed behind her, leaving just her, Chuck and the candle light.

Blair contemplated letting Chuck undress her and possibly discovering things about her body that he didn't like, but if she undressed herself, she would be able to see his reaction and hide anything that she was a little unsure about.

She chose the latter.

Moving towards him, Blair reached out her hand to pull him to a sitting position. She wasn't sure how to proceed so as not to seem too eager and wanton, but not to be cold and stiff towards her husband.

She lowered her lips to his tentatively, and they kissed each other slowly and sweetly, both of them savouring this moment that would never happen again. Tonight would be their first time together, and in Blair's case it would be her first time _ever._

Chuck lifted his hands to rest lightly on her hips, and Blair's own arms wrapped around his neck. She kissed him with more passion and vigour, tracing her tongue across his bottom lip until he opened his mouth so that she could deepen the kiss.

Blair's fingers tangled in his hair and Chuck moved his mouth away from hers, leaving both of them gasping for breath. He trailed teasing kisses along her jaw line, then kisses down her smooth white neck to her collarbone. Blair sighed softly as he nibbled on her earlobe, his hot wet mouth sending a lusty shiver down her spine. She arched her back as he palmed her breasts over her gown, pushing her chest further into his hands. Beneath the gown her nipples became hard enough for Chuck to rub his thumb over them, and at this unexpected sensation she moaned loudly.

She pushed Chuck off of her body and stood up, reaching behind her to untie the laces of her gown. Grasping both loose ends of the knot, she slowly pulled it apart, moving her nimble fingers further and further down her back so that the dress became looser and looser on her slender frame.

When the laces were fully untied, Blair crossed her arms over her chest and turned her back to Chuck, who gazed longingly at her display.

She slowly removed her arms from the lace sleeves until it was only her arms on her chest that held the dress up.

Chuck reached out and turned her around. His voice was low and gravelly, desire blazing in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

Blair bit her lip and nodded, and let go of the front of the dress, baring her naked body to her husband.

Chuck's mouth fell open in awe as he stared at her exquisite form. Her breasts were larger than he had expected them to be, soft yet firm mounds of beauty, topped with the most perfect pink nipples he had ever seen.

The planes of her stomach were flat and smooth, and her tiny waist only made her breasts and hips look fuller. She was slender, delicate; and yet perfectly proportioned. The dark curls at the apex of her thighs beckoned him forwards – he had to stop himself from moving from his position on the bed.

She stepped towards him, her wide doe eyes seeming innocent for the first time. She was purity defined, and Chuck was almost disturbed by the overwhelming need to claim her, to colour that purity with lusty reds, sinful blacks and royal purples. He was breathless and she hadn't even touched him, and when Blair reached out a hand to cup his face he had to stop her so that he could regain some measure of control over his body.

And all of a sudden he was touching her, kissing her, pressing himself against her, and his nibbles on her throat and ears were no longer enough. A fire burned in the pit of her stomach and all of Blair's thoughts were suddenly focussed on intensifying the heat of the flames and then shattering them with _something._

Blair wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands explored her body, moaning as her nipples brushed against the cloth of his doublet.

It was then that Blair noticed that she was completely nude, yet Chuck was almost fully dressed. Her nimble fingers worked quickly to remove the clothing that covered his upper body, and when she finally lost patience with the laces of his shirt she started on his bottoms. Blair was well aware that they should probably 'take it slow', but a voice inside her head screamed out for more touching and more kissing and just _more_.

The need Chuck felt to possess her both terrified and thrilled him; he had never felt such passion and longing for another person, had never experienced such powerful lust, and yet this girl, this French girl with her black eyes and rosy lips and pert breasts had entranced him and made him love her – and Chuck was enthralled by it. His manhood ached for friction, but for the moment Chuck had to ignore the pain in order to ease Blair into the experience.

He wanted so much to pleasure her before himself, and knew how vital it was that she gained something from this experience other than sore thighs. He was determined to give her the incredible 'first time' that he had never have, and even though he knew it would hurt her initially, he would make it perfect for her.

Chuck moved them both slowly to the bed, gently pushing Blair backwards when the back of her knees touched the edge of the bed.

He pressed a kiss to the inside of her ankle, and slowly but surely made his way up her body to her lips. When his lips eventually touched hers, she was shaking with desire, her eyes closed and her back arched as his fingers tweaked her nipples, alternating between gentle and firm tugs. Chuck delved his tongue into her mouth and growled when she nibbled on his bottom lip hard enough for him to feel it. He had no choice but to lift himself when Blair tugged his shirt hard off of his body, pulling it up and over his head and throwing it into a corner of the room.

The candles flickered at the movement of air, and for a couple of seconds the two just stared at each other. And then Chuck's body jolted as Blair's fingers made their way beneath his bottoms, the hot skin of her palm suddenly enclosed around his hard shaft. He growled in his throat and Blair couldn't help but moan wantonly as he lowered his mouth to her nipple, rolling his tongue around his nub and grazing his teeth against it. Her hips bucked against him and Chuck smirked, only to moan himself when Blair squeezed her hand deliciously around him; his balls tightened and for in a panicked moment Chuck thought it was all over. He raised an eyebrow in disbelief to the naked woman beneath him – she was sporting a little smirk of her own, her own eyebrows rose as if to challenge him.

"We should slow down," Chuck murmured against her breasts, changing his nibbles into soft kisses. Blair protested silently, hooking her thumbs into his waistband and using her toes to peel the material down his legs. He was shocked into silence when both of Blair's small hands began to work him, and he could not help but lie there and enjoy the sensation.

Chuck allowed himself a minute or so of pleasurable delirium, and then moved her hands from his throbbing flesh. He crawled backwards until he was kneeling between her legs, and raised a finger to his lips when Blair made to stop him. "Hush now, Princess. As your husband, it is my duty to please you."

He lowered his body to the bed and pressed gentle kisses to the inside of her soft thighs, each kiss moving further towards the most sacred part of her body. Blair shuddered as she felt his breath at the apex of her thighs and moaned as he placed a final wet kiss over her throbbing centre. He nuzzled the sensitive bud of flesh and smirked against Blair's skin as she quivered.

Chuck opened his mouth and swept the tip of his tongue along Blair's opening, spreading the wetness that had gathered there around her centre. She arched her back violently off of the bed, moaning loudly as Chuck's tongue traced patterns into her hypersensitive bundle of nerves.

She froze for a moment as he slowly and gently slid a finger inside her, and when he curled it experimentally, groaned in satisfaction again. Reassured by her reaction, Chuck continued his ministrations, working his finger inside of her and using the tip of his tongue to bring beautiful expletives from her mouth. She wasn't even aware that she knew some of the words that her lips voluntarily offered up, but they fit her feelings perfectly.

Chuck added another finger, all the while being careful not to rob her of her maidenhead until she was absolutely ready, and Blair was pushed over the edge. A wave of heat and pleasure crashed through Blair's limbs, starting at the tips of her toes and rolling inwards towards her centre. Her body clenched around his fingers and she could've sworn that Chuck took her clit into his mouth as she writhed through her orgasm. Chuck made to continue, but Blair gripped his hair in one hand.

"No more," she said breathlessly, "I need you." Her voice was almost pleading, and though Chuck tried to avoid kissing her, a primal part of her was desperate to taste herself on his tongue. She pressed her lips hard against his, their tongues battling for control and Chuck shimmied out of his remaining clothing. Blair raked her nails down his chest, scratching against his own erect nipples, and she smirked happily when he let out a rough moan.

His body covered hers, and suddenly this was it; this was the moment that her womanhood would begin.

She felt his tip nudging at her centre and opened her legs a little more to aid the process. She was surprised to find that she was not at all nervous – her body was ready for this, her body _needed_ this.

Chuck began to push himself into her, and for Blair the first inch or so was only mildly uncomfortable. And then he reached her barrier, and stilled himself. He opened his eyes and was surprised to find her black eyes gazing at him adoringly. One of her hands cupped his cheek and she kissed the tip of his nose, the innocence in the moment reminding Chuck of what he was about to do. He leaned his forehead against hers and she nodded, taking a final deep breath. He thrust his hips as gently as he was able, but it was still hard enough to break through her barrier.

Her back arched instinctively against the invasion, and it was only Chuck's thumb stroking her cheek softly that stopped her from crying out. She hissed quietly in pain, gritting her teeth as her body throbbed.

Blair's racing heart eventually returned to normal, and she opened one eye to check on her husband. Chuck had his eyes squeezed closed, absolute heartbreak displayed on his face, showing his anguish of hurting her. She clenched her internal muscles experimentally, and smiled when his eyes flashed open.

"Blair?" His voice was low and rough, and it was only then that she realised that he too must be aching for release.

"Not now, Chuck. I'm a little _occupied,_" she replied softly, wrapping her arms around his torso so her hands were on his back. She clenched her muscles again, and the pain was definitely ebbing away. Blair shifted her hips and Chuck's eyes rolled back a little at the sensation.

She was unbelievably _tight_; he had never experience such intensity, such absolute _joy_when making love to someone. It didn't help that Chuck was well aware that he was the one to take her virginity; a raw, primal corner of his mind screamed at him to make her weep with pleasure, to ravish her body to such a degree that she couldn't walk properly for days. He had never felt like this before, and couldn't imagine how he had ever enjoyed his sexual encounters before this with Blair.

Blair continued to move her hips, allowing Chuck's throbbing length to shift inside her. She nudged him with one of her feet and smirked at he began to slowly slide in and out of her. The smile was wiped quickly from her face as Chuck's thrusts became longer. She moaned and clawed at his back, wrapping her legs around his hips. This new position allowed him to enter her much more deeply than before, and his answering moan of pleasure reassured her that this had been the correct thing to do.

Chuck lowered his mouth to one of her nipples and scraped his teeth against it, grunting when she thrust her own hips up to meet his. Blair's cries became louder and higher, and Chuck knew she was close again. Rather than pulling out again, Chuck ground his hips against hers and began to thrust in short, sharp movement. Blair mewled in ecstasy as a second orgasm rolled through her, leaving her gasping for air as her walls squeezed around him.

The feeling was so powerful that Chuck had to close his eyes and fight against the natural urge to join her in her orgasm, and he took out this frustration by sucking hard on the skin of one of Blair's breasts. She shrieked in response, moaning loudly, her legs allowing her to continue grinding herself against him even as her orgasm continued.

Blair clutched at his back, her nails drawing blood, and her own mouth sucking hard on his collarbone. Chuck was unable to fight anymore – he had no choice but to give in to his instincts.

He thrust deeply into Blair, sitting up suddenly and pulling her with him. Her legs draped on either side of his hips, and her head fell back, exposing the unmarked skin of her throat. Chuck lavished kisses along every piece of skin he could reach, holding Blair's body tightly so that he could ravage her. "This is incredible," Blair confessed, the breath stole from her body by the intensity of their actions.

He couldn't reply. His entire mind was focussed on bringing her to the brink a final time, where he would finally join her.

If Chuck had ever been afraid that all of this was too much for Blair, the grinding of her hips against his was enough to solve that problem.

She caught his attention by placing the palms of her hands on his shoulders, pushing him backwards to lie on the bed.

Chuck was captivated as she began to ride him – slowly at first, and then she shocked him by rising almost completely off of his length and sinking quickly back down again. Chuck's hips bucked as Blair threw back her head and ground herself against him, and he reached up to palm her breasts in his hands.

Blair leaned towards him suddenly, so she was almost horizontal. "I love you," she gasped.

"I love you too," Chuck replied with a moan. "So much, Blair. Can't even tell you..."

They were both filled with a desperate urgency, and, as he thrust a final time, they both fell over the edge and into a delicious oblivion of nothingness.

He spilled himself inside her, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise, and Blair cried out as wave after wave of addictive pleasure crashed and rolled within her very soul

...

She was weak afterwards – admittedly they both were – and she could only smile tiredly as he cleaned them both up with a damp cloth.

The bloody stain on the bedspread raised a satisfied flush to both of their cheeks, and Chuck leaned over her and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

She yawned. "I refuse to sleep naked."

Chuck retrieved his discarded shirt from a corner of the room and Blair pulled it over her head. The item drowned her, but it covered her upper body and fell to just above her knees, and she deemed it modest enough to sleep in. It smelled like him, and Blair breathed in his scent before curling herself into Chuck's side.

He stroked her hair and she kissed his chest, sighing in satisfaction.

"Is it always like that?" she asked him quietly, yawning again.

"That was the first time for me," He replied honestly, "That was incredible. _You_ are incredible. I didn't think it was possible to love someone as much as I love you."

Blair smiled up at him. "I love you too. Goodnight, husband."

"Goodnight, my Princess."

* * *

><p><strong>I personally think that this chapter is the best thing that I have ever written. Ever. Just saying. And it is also the longest thing that I have ever written. I hope I did Chuck and Blair – and all of you – proud.<strong>

**Leave me lots and lots of reviews my lovely loyal readers, you make me happy! **


	10. Chapter 10

**WOW, ok long wait for this chapter. You wanted more lemons... here they are.**

...

_**25**__**th**__** February 1519 (continued...)**_

When Bart and Lily retired from the wedding feast, their minds were troubled.

Bart sighed and dismissed their attendants once they were in their nightshirts, and tossed another log on the dimming embers of the fire.

Lily glanced at him warily, wondering what had caused her husband's sudden change in mood. "What is it?"

"Nothing important," Bart shrugged, his eyes focussed on his wife's heavily pregnant stomach.

"Bart," Lily chided, "Tell me what is troubling you."

Bart pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. "Our eldest daughter received two proposals of marriage today," he replied sombrely, dismayed at the thought that his precious Serena, his beautiful first born girl, was becoming a woman.

Lily smiled, a little confused. "But, that's good, is it not?"

"Not necessarily," Bart muttered.

"Well... which men offered her their hands?" Lily pressed, unsure as to why Bart was so depressed.

"The Duke of Florence – the King of Spain's middle son," Bart seemed to struggle for a moment, "And Nathaniel Archibald – the Duke of Northumberland's eldest son."

Lily beamed. "Which shall we accept?"

Bart's reply was immediate. "I am unsure."

"But, _why_, my Lord? Serena is of an age to be betrothed, and I know she is sweet on the Northumberland heir. Surely this is just what she would want?"

"Because strengthening our alliance with Spain is a more pressing matter than the flighty wants of a thirteen year old," he replied sharply, avoiding Lily's eyes. He sighed and pressed his finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose.

Lily frowned sadly. "You promised her, Bart. You promised her a love-match."

"Let us quell talk of marriage for now." Bart shrugged off her disappointed sigh and directed his gaze towards the fire.

Lily pressed a hand to the swell of her stomach and grimaced as the walls of her womb tightened.

Bart was instantly alert. "What? What is it?"

Lily's eyes softened. "False labour pains. It will not be much longer, I think."

"But, it has only been six months or so," Bart protested, and Lily shrugged.

"How can anyone ever be sure about these things?"

"The midwife seemed to be sure," Bart replied childishly.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Husband, you are forgetting the amount of children that I have birthed. I know how my own body fares during pregnancy, and I know - regardless of what the midwife says - that the baby will come soon."

Bart smiled at her certainty and he raised her hand to his lips. "Come. We are to bed."

* * *

><p><em><strong>26<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

Blair rolled over and smiled at the sleeping face of the man beside her. She lay there for a moment, just gazing at his closed eyes and the delicious half smirk on his lips. Blair pulled the bedclothes over his bare chest a little more, so only his shoulders could be seen. Unlike her, Chuck had slept in the nude, and a light blush lit her cheeks as she remembered the night before. Marguerite had warned her that losing her maidenhead would hurt, and had told her that some women eventually grew to enjoy the carnal act, but Blair had never imagined _this. _

It had been the single most powerful experience of her life. She had done it. She was a woman now. They had done it. _Made love_.

She grinned and ran a hand through her tousled hair.

She pulled herself reluctantly from the bed, wincing as the ache in her thighs made itself known for the first time. She stretched like a cat, rubbing her eyes sleepily and yawning.

Blair used the closet and grimaced at the tenderness she felt at the apex of her thighs, and she had a feeling that she had probably drank too much wine the previous day, but all in all, she felt wonderful.

They had slept late; all of the curtains had been opened, the fire was roaring in the hearth and there was a jug of watered wine on a table in her ante-chamber. She was quite surprised to find her chambers deserted, but suspected that it had probably been little Jennifer's influence. The blonde was more persuasive than she looked, her heart-shaped face and big blue eyes hiding well the determination and devotion that Jennifer had for ensuring Blair's happiness.

Blair washed herself and pulled a face at the faint traces of blood that were evident on the clean piece of linen. She dabbed rosewater on the tops of her thighs and on her collarbone, ensuring that she smelt fresh enough, at least until a bath could be drawn.

She climbed back into the sheets, pressing herself against Chuck's warm body. He coughed a little and she looked up, biting her lip when she realised that he had been awake long enough to see her clean away what was left of the mess from the night before.

Chuck was gazing at her in amusement, propped up on an elbow. "Good morrow, my sweet wife. Fare thee well this day?"

She smiled and rolled her eyes, immediately at ease again. Blair edged her way towards him and curled her body around his, kissing his chest softly. "I am very well, dear husband."

"Sore?" he asked her, his voice quiet and a little embarrassed.

She shrugged and her eyes twinkled deviously. "Nothing unmanageable."

She trailed her fingers down his bare chest, smiling at the fine dusting of hair that covered his skin. Blair pressed her lips to Chuck's fiercely, shifting on the bed and straddling him. She pulled back to find him gazing at her with unbridled lust in his eyes. Blair raised an eyebrow when she felt his member harden against her thighs, and adjusted her pelvis so that she was positioned directly over him.

Blair held his eyes and sank down onto him, but was unable to hide a slight grimace as her body stretched to accommodate his length. It was still slightly painful and she stayed still until her muscles had relaxed. Her legs shook around him and she bit her lip, feeling a slight sting as she sunk lower.

Chuck cupped her cheek with a hand and rubbed his thumb gently across her skin. "Blair, we don't have to..."

She responded with a raised eyebrow and a squeeze of her internal muscles, and Chuck gritted his teeth, his sudden interruption distracting her from the pain. Blair smirked at his expression, slowly raising her hips and sinking back down on him. Chuck's eyes widened and his mouth fell open at the beautiful sight of his wife riding him. She placed her hands on his chest and arched her back, moaning as his member reached a new place inside of her.

Chuck squirmed at her torturous slow pace and couldn't help but thrust his hips into hers, and Blair immediately stopped her motions.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked challengingly. "Be still, _mon amour_1_." _

Chuck bit his lip in reply and Blair tilted her head in question. "I love it when you speak French," Chuck admitted with a smirk, his eyes grazing her naked body.

"Est-ce vrai?"2 Blair whispered, looking down at him with a sly smile. She giggled at Chuck's answering groan and cried out in pleasure when he lifted his hips suddenly.

Without any warning, she began to grind her hips against him – hard. This lovemaking was unlike the encounter from the previous night. That had been loving and tender and careful, but this was hard and rough and so unbelievably passionate that Blair felt she might explode from the pure ecstasy that came with the fire of arousal. Their bodies writhed together on the bed, to the point where Blair was unsure of where she ended and Chuck began.

His length touched places inside her that she wasn't even aware she had, and made her feel things that she had never imagined she could feel: of course, she had read about such things in Marguerite's bawdy romance novellas, but she had never thought in a thousand years that she would be lucky enough to experience love and lust hand in hand.

She tumbled happily into the flames of orgasm three times before Chuck was spent, and even then he pulled her along with him by circling his thumb around the sensitive bud of flesh at the apex of her thighs.

Afterwards, the two lay gasping for breath, tangled up in one another, their lithe bodies glistening with sweat.

Chuck stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, lovingly, and Blair closed her eyes in bliss. She knew, in that instant, that if she could purr, she would.

...

When she awoke again, her naked body had been covered with the heavy blankets of the bed once again. She was alone in the bed, but when she looked around she spied a lone daffodil on the pillow beside her. The bright sun streamed in through the windows and Blair blushed a little when she realised how late it must be – midday at least.

"Chuck?" she called, tugging the covers up further to hide her bare shoulders. "Jennifer?"

She grinned as Chuck materialized in the doorway. He looked happier than she had ever seen him.

"You look like the tiger that ate the nightingale," Blair commented wryly, twisting a curl around her finger.

Chuck raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. "One wonders why that must be."

"Indeed," Blair said coyly, biting her lip and looking up at him from under her lashes. "Where are my maids?"

"Dismissed for the day," Chuck replied with a shrug, coming to sit beside her on the bed.

"And why would that be? Who will help me dress?"

Chuck tugged the cover from her chest, letting the blankets pool in her lap. He cupped her left breast with one of his hands and leaned forwards to whisper in her ear. "You will not need to dress at all today, my dear wife. It is the wish of your husband that you remain exactly as you are: naked and more beautiful than you have ever been. To hide your body with so many layers should be blasphemous."

Blair flushed and sighed at his gentle caress. "Then I must insist that you join me in my state of undress, husband."

Chuck stared at her, his gaze filled with an insatiable burning lust. "As you wish."

* * *

><p><em><strong>27<strong>__**th**__** February 1519**_

It was another day until Blair and Chuck could bear to drag themselves from their bedchamber, and even then they (i.e. Chuck) insisted that they bathe together.

Chuck lay back in the hot water, smiling as Blair trailed her fingers along his thighs. She shifted her hips and Chuck groaned, his hands gripping her flesh beneath the water. "Keep still," he murmured into her ear, making her shiver as his tongue flicked at the sensitive part of her earlobe.

"That is probably the best idea," Blair admitted with a pout. "This is the third day that we have been in this bedchamber with only each other for company. I feel as if I am going quite mad!" She poked her tongue out to show that she was joking.

Chuck rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Have you enjoyed being my wedded wife, then?"

"Of course." Blair smiled and leaned back, her back pressing against his chest. Chuck wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and pulled a sheet across to cover their naked bodies as the servers brought in their breakfast.

Blair avoided the eyes of the men and Chuck similarly glared at those few who dared to look at the (covered) body of his wife.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, pressing a kiss to her cheekbones.

"As I love you," Blair replied with an adoring smile. "Come. Let us break our fast and rejoin the court. I have forgotten how it feels to wear a dress."

Chuck smirked and trailed his fingers down the bare body of his beloved. "Wonderful."

...

Serena laughed in delight when she realised that Blair had finally emerged from the marital chambers. She linked her arm through her new sister's and guided her out into the Nursery gardens, where the royal children were happily chasing around Blair and Chuck's puppies.

Chuck had disappeared with Andrew to be grilled about the wedding night, and Blair felt a little pathetic for _missing _him already. She felt a little incomplete without him, and it bothered her.

Serena's laugh distracted her from her sombre thoughts, however, and she looked around to see the cause. "What is it, Serena?"

Serena pointed cheerfully to a tree in the distance. "Chuck has just pushed Lord Baizen into the pond."

...

"How was it?" Carter asked him immediately, and Chuck wrinkled his nose in distaste.

Andrew shot Carter a funny look and patted his elder brother on the shoulder. "I hope that the night was... _productive?_"

Chuck could not help but smirk at that and all three of his companions guffawed at his pleased expression. "It was extremely productive, yes. Thank you for your concern, dear brother." In spite of the formal words, Chuck waggled his eyebrows to display just how pleased he had been with the entire experience.

"Been making lots of royal babies, have you?" Carter enquired, smirking at Chuck's expression. "I bet it was incredible. There's nothing like breaking a girl in, is there?"

Chuck glared at him. "Enough, Carter."

Seeing Chuck's discomfort, Carter continued. "Did you make her bleed? I love virgin blood."

Chuck stepped forwards and grabbed the front of Carter's fur coat. "You go too far, you bastard," he growled at him, and Carter's eyes mocked him.

"Did I say something?" Carter replied innocently, and Chuck hissed at him from between clenched teeth.

Nate laid a calming hand on Chuck's shoulder. "Let him go, Chuck."

And when Chuck realised just how close they were to the edge of the freshly-unfrozen pond, he let go of Carter and pushed him backwards. "I think you need to cool off, Lord Baizen," he said in a respectable tone as Carter plunged into the cold water.

...

Blair lifted her skirts and ran to Chuck. She linked her arm through his and tried to pull him away from Carter, who floundered dramatically in the water. "What were you _thinking_?" She hissed at him, trying to cover her smile as three guards tried to pull Carter from the pond.

Chuck shook his head and tried to ignore her, but Blair was persistent. "Chuck," she growled, "Tell me."

Sighing, Chuck relented to a degree. "Let us just say that he takes too much pleasure in deflowering innocent maidens. I did not like to hear him speaking of my wife in such derogatory and familiar terms."

Understanding him at once, Blair's face flushed angrily. She turned back to Carter – who had now been heaved out of the icy water – and pushed him back in again. She caught him completely off guard and had to hold back her laughter as he swore in frustration.

Chuck beamed at her, clasping her hand in his, shooing away their attendants and guided her to a secluded part of the garden. "You amaze me," he said softly when they were alone, brushing gentle kisses to the tips of her fingers.

Blair smiled shyly and looked away from the intensity of his ochre gaze. "Your enemies are my enemies, Chuck. I am your ally in all things."

"And I yours," Chuck agreed, kissing her lips firmly as if to communicate the sentiment. Blair wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed Chuck against a tree, smirking against his lips when she felt his fully-awake erection against her warm palm. He hadn't even felt her undo his breeches, yet her hot little hand encircled his length and moved torturously slow as the other gripped the hair at the back of his head. She nibbled on the skin of his neck and tried not to let out a breathy giggle when Chuck squeezed her backside and thrust himself against her, trapping her hand within his breeches between their aroused bodies.

And then all too sudden there was a conspicuous cough and Blair looked around dazedly, blushing when she spied the grinning face of Serena.

She gently extracted her hand from his breeches and bit her lip, looking up at her husband coyly from beneath her lashes. "Until later, then."

She stepped back and moved out of his grasp, ignoring the anger, amusement and pleading that somehow his eyes communicated. Blair curtsied and smiled a sirens smile. "Your Highness," she breathed, trying to ignore the way her heart was pounding in her incredible desire for her husband.

Blair turned and walked away, leaving Chuck attempting to regain his breath against the tree. Serena linked her arm through Blair's and glanced at her sister-in-law.

"Do I want to know what you were doing?"

"No," Blair replied simply, and Serena winced.

"Didn't think so."

...

Blair effectively avoided her husband for the rest of the day, though she knew she wouldn't be able to do so forever.

She decided to dress in a purple gown to firmly establish her new position as Princess of England, not to mention she knew that Chuck would love it.

The material clung to her hips and the corset beneath offered up her creamy breasts to the eye. Amethysts dripped from her ears and diamonds adorned her chest, covering up the few marks that Chuck had naughtily left with his mouth.

Her hair was left loose and curly down her back in the way that Chuck had admitted he adored, crystals shining in her mahogany locks. She looked incredibly beautiful, and yet there was something about her that set her above the rest of the ladies in her tableau; her undeniable strength, grace and confidence made her stand out and shine, even though she was wearing a darker dress than her ladies.

She ate little of her evening meal and asked for all of the meat to be shorn from the bone before she would eat it. She was a Princess of England now and had no need to hide her peeves from the nobility as she had when she first arrived. Bart had smiled a little when he overheard Blair requesting asparagus, for they were known to make male children, but was slightly disconcerted to see the way his son and daughter-in-law were interacting.

Chuck would not look directly into Blair's eyes, feeling altogether furious and absolutely aroused at her actions earlier that day. Instead, Charles directed his gaze to her bosom and thought hungrily of the night ahead.

So far, he had been reasonably gentle with her, mostly allowing her to set the pace and control their love making. It had been torturous and overwhelming and perfect for their first few days as man and wife, but tonight he would show her just how much pleasure he could bring her.

He was going to give it to her rough tonight; a part of him was certain that she knew and was intentionally torturing him for it.

He had never expected this from marriage. Never expected to be matched in stamina or wit or _lust_, and yet he had somehow managed to capture the heart of the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

By God, with her ivory skin, slightly pointed ears and almond eyes, she could have been descended from faerie-folk. She was a mythological creature to him; enticing in the extreme, seemingly untouchable and rather cool to him in public, and yet he knew the fire that burned beneath and longed to strip her dress away to bare her soul to the world. The soul that was his, just as she utterly possessed Chuck's own.

Chuck jerked when he felt it: Blair's hand rested innocently on his leg, her fingertips just brushing his inner thigh.

She began to massage the sensitive skin there with the tiniest of movements, but stilled when Chuck's hand covered hers beneath the table.

Anger be damned, Chuck needed her to touch him. He moved her hand further up his leg and tucked himself more securely beneath the table so that the passing servers would not see what was happening. Blair slid herself closer to Chuck, her chair grinding on the floor as she moved it. Lily looked up, surprised, but Blair shrugged and smiled as Chuck slid his arm around her shoulders.

This seemingly innocent act created a wave of 'awws' from amongst the gathered nobles, and Blair blushed and went back to eating with one hand.

Chuck was almost disappointed, until he felt her squeeze his leg hard. She grazed her palm up his thigh, wrapping her fingers around his clothed erection and scraping her nails against it. Hiding his hiss of pleasure behind a handkerchief, Chuck sent Blair a sharp warning look, but she just smiled adoringly at her Prince and continued her ministrations, much to his delight and horror.

Unconsciously Chuck began to lift his hips in time with her movements, so much so that Blair stilled for a moment whilst her husband collected himself.

Once she was sure he could control his reactions, she continued, moving her hand faster and more roughly beneath the table.

Chuck glanced down at Blair's flushed face and realised just how much of a thrill this was giving her. Her cheeks were pink, her lips parted as if in a silent moan and her eyes were glazed over and heavily lidded. He smirked as she looked around the room to check that they weren't being watched too closely by any of the courtiers, and then the smile was wiped from his devilishly handsome face as Blair squeezed his length _hard_.

He coughed to gain her attention, but she smiled sweetly to nobody in particular and went back to her strawberries and cream, completely ignoring him.

"Blair," he whispered pleadingly, unsure if he wanted her to stop or continue at this point.

But Blair chose to continue, moving her palm in circular motions against his erections until Chuck was breathing so harshly that she was genuinely surprised that somebody hadn't noticed. And then she felt it; the spread of warm sticky liquid beneath his breeches, the sign that she had done it – pushed him over the edge and away from the confines of his control in public.

And it was absolutely thrilling. Chuck glared at her, his seed making his breeches heavy and uncomfortable, but was unable to keep the smirk from his lips.

Discreetly pulling her hand from beneath the table, Blair wiped it on a napkin and gestured for a bowl of rosewater to be brought over so that she could wash the sweat from her hands.

Blair smiled at the server and yawned, blushing when ten or eleven courtiers chuckled knowingly.

She didn't quite catch their comments, but judging by Chuck's reaction he clearly had some indication of what they were saying and was unhappy with it.

Bart looked at the men sharply and each of them quickly returned to their conversations, desperate to avoid a dressing down in front of the entire court.

Chuck brushed Blair's hair away from the back of her neck so that it cascaded over one shoulder, and pressed a wet kiss to her nape. She shivered and bit her lip, a fire sparking in the pit of her stomach. She looked at him meaningfully and Chuck smirked.

"Ready for bed, Princess?" he asked her quietly, his eyes lowering to her bottom lip as her teeth nibbled on it.

Blair nodded. "I would've liked to have danced awhile in my husband's arms, but I am your humble and obedient wife and will be agreeable to your decision," her tone was respectful, but the devious blaze in her eyes said otherwise. Oh yes, Blair was definitely aware that their sexual escapades were about to change drastically, and she wanted to fight for control just as much as he did.

At that, Chuck stood and pulled Blair's chair out for her, waving away the serving boy that leapt forward to help. Blair stood and gave her husband a shallow curtsey, blushing again as everyone in the room stood with her.

"We shall retire now, if it pleases your Majesty?" Chuck asked his father, trying not to sound impatient or disrespectful.

Bart nodded sleepily, his hand resting on Lily's pregnant belly. "Yes, yes, goodnight."

Blair curtsied again, to the King this time, and stepped down from the dais. She focussed on nothing but Chuck's hand on the small of her back, guiding her from the room and straight to her chambers.

...

They entered in a rush of silks and satins, Chuck waving Blair's ladies from the room without even a word. He locked the door behind them and stood there, staring hard at his panting wife.

And then they were together, his lips attacking her delicious neck, her hands fumbling at the laces of his breeches.

Chuck didn't bother removing her dress. He pressed her up against the double oak doors into her chambers, hitched her skirts around her waist and lifted her, her legs wrapping around him and locking behind his back. She cried out as her back hit the wood, then hissed in pleasure as his hardness sprung free and rubbed himself against her core.

"Please," she begged, her hands clawing at his back as he mercilessly marked her neck, "_God_, Chuck, _please._"

He reached up and grabbed one of the sleeves of her gown, ripping it away from her body and exposing more of her creamy skin to his mouth. Blair moaned at his brutality and arched against him, desperately shifting her hips for more friction.

"No, Blair," Chuck mumbled against her, managing to sound commanding even as he shuddered at the feel of his wife's nails clawing at the skin of his back. "You thought you could control me, _me_, the Prince of Wales."

"I did not," Blair protested weakly, wriggling her hips to try and get Chuck to enter her. "I would never..."

"'_Humble and obedient wife',"_ Chuck mimicked, "You don't have a humble or obedient bone in your body, _Princess_."

Blair's head fell onto Chuck's shoulders as one of his fingers slipped into her wet heat, clenching her muscles in an attempt to stop him from pulling away from her. "Please," she begged again, feeling tears pool at the corners of her eyes at the absolute frustration she felt. Chuck swiftly removed the digit and coolly appraised her.

"Your little stunt at supper could've caused quite the scandal," he growled, "Never thought you'd be one to act like a whore."

"I am _not_ a whore," Blair spat, fury clouding her lust addled brain. "How dare you?"

"Twice today you have committed inappropriate acts in public," Chuck added mirthlessly, "Seems like whore-like behaviour to me."

"You bastard!" Blair cried, deliberately scratching his back hard enough to draw blood.

In response, Chuck slammed her again into the door, smirking at her lusty moan as his erection brushed against her folds again.

"How dare you call me a whore," she said breathlessly, her eyes narrowing. "Correct me if I am wrong but are not you the one who has bedded countless women? You were my first and only!"

Chuck scoffed. "Yes, I was your first and only, but it has not taken you very long to collect a repertoire of whores' tricks, has it my _pretty wife?_"

Blair scowled at him, unlocking one of her arms from around his neck and slapping his cheek with as much force as she could muster. "I hate you!" she screamed, and then her lips found his.

Their kiss was punishing, bruising, and Blair moaned loudly as Chuck finally slammed into her. She locked her fingers in his hair and pulled hard enough to cause pain, then crying out herself as the hard wooden door began to hurt her back.

Somehow, though, the pain intensified the pleasure, and Blair was soon tumbling into the abyss of orgasm.

Chuck's legs buckled beneath him and he landed with a thud on the floor, remaining inside Blair as she fell on top of him. Recognising their new position, Blair wrestled Chuck's hands above his head and held them there, riding him as fast and as rough as she was able.

And suddenly he was hovering above her again, plunging into her mirthlessly, ruthlessly, absolutely intent on driving the line between pleasure and pain higher and higher into an agonising oblivion.

Her head hurt, her thighs trembled and her back was being ground into the cold floor of her chambers, but she had never felt like this in her entire life.

Her wedding night could not compare to this, nor could the numerous times they had made love since. "God, Chuck, harder," she pleaded, arching up off of the floor as he hit that special spot inside her that made her squirm.

Screaming as she orgasmed a second time, Blair felt herself being lifted and pressed against something freezing. She wasn't too concerned about where she had been moved too because the movement of Chuck carrying her had prolonged her moments of bliss, his member edging deeper and deeper with each passing step.

When she was coherent enough to look around, Blair realised that she was leaned against the window in her bedchamber. She felt light headed and dizzy, but it wasn't in a bad way. Chuck was gazing at her warily, still hard himself but slightly concerned about Blair's lack of response. She raised a challenging eyebrow and his hard thrusting was immediately returned.

He gripped her hips tightly, his eyes rolling back into his head as he felt her orgasm build for a third time. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to hold on, he managed to twist them around so that Blair was bent over, her forehead pressed against the window.

He thrust into her over and over again, the rhythm brutal and hard and Blair was in heaven.

The sensation of him inside her, of his fingers tweaking her clit, her own hands massaging her breasts as she again raced towards release made her cry out breathily, begging for more and less and harder and softer and just _anything_ to bring her orgasm to her.

Chuck pumped his hips once, twice, a third time before twisting her clitoris and grunting as Blair's orgasm washed over her. She screamed out and Chuck moaned loudly, his seed spilling from him and into her.

They fell onto the floor in a heap of sweaty tangled limbs, Blair wincing in pain at a sudden twinge in her back.

Chuck saw her grimace but did not say anything, instead trailing his fingers against the bare skin of her back.

Blair blinked up at him, wondering silently when he had managed to rid her of her dress. She snuggled against him and closed her eyes.

"Blair," Chuck mumbled tiredly, "You can't go to sleep on the floor."

Blair opened one eye and smirked wickedly. "I was just resting my eyes for round two."

Chuck spluttered as Blair's fingers found his now soft member, stroking it back to life for the fourth time that day. "You're trying to kill me, woman," he said playfully, moaning as Blair's lips enclosed around one of his nipples.

She stood suddenly, pulling him to his feet and pushing him onto the bed. She climbed atop him and straddled him, rubbing her breasts against his chest as she sank down onto his fresh hardness.

Grinding themselves together, Blair and Chuck soon found mutual release, each of them crying out the other's name as their orgasms exploded.

Afterwards, they lay against one another, her head on his stomach as his rested on her legs. They talked about everything and nothing in the way that only couples who were truly comfortable with each other could.

"Just think," Chuck said softly before they succumbed to sleep, "Our first child could have been conceived tonight."

Blair smiled and closed her eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>Ps, I hope you appreciate this. I have a Religious Studies A-Level tomorrow and a fractured wrist, but Chuck and Blair's rough Tudor-style sex could not be ignored.<strong>

**Reviews will equal an update, considering I have a week off starting the 1st June!**

...

1 "Be still, my love."

2 "Is that so?"


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you to everyone for your reviews. I appreciate them more than you know.

This takes place a week after the last chapter.

Jeez it's complicated working out accurate pregnancy dates and stuff!

* * *

><p><em><strong>5<strong>__**th**__** March 1519**_

Blair glanced curiously over at Serena's miserable face. "Serena?" she asked softly, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Serena assured, avoiding her eyes. "Nothing."

Taking Serena's arm, Blair drew her away from the ears of the court. "Tell me."

"Nate proposed to me," the blonde said sadly, sighing and shaking her head. "I said yes, and told him to ask my Father for permission before we could make it official."

"And?" Blair prompted.

"My father came out against the match," Serena wailed, covering her eyes with her hands. "He wants me to marry a Spanish prince."

"Arranged marriages are not all bad, Serena," Blair offered in an effort to comfort the younger girl, but Serena scoffed indignantly.

"You say that as if you're an expert. You never knew true love before you were forced into marrying my heinous brother. I love Nate. I'd rather die than be separated from him."

Blair frowned but tried not to take the comment to heart. "You have to obey your Father no matter how much you disagree with his wishes."

"I do _not!"_ Serena hissed vehemently. "I will find a way. I am fourteen in three days; old enough to marry and have a family."

"You have your entire life to have a family," Blair protested, desperately looking for a way to change the subject. "You should enjoy being young and carefree."

"You seem to forget that you are only three and a half years my elder, sister," Serena said dully, sighing and taking a drink of her wine. "No, I will find to way to make my father agree to my marriage with Nate, and at the same time make myself undesirable to all others."

Blair was immediately alarmed. "This is not the time for rash actions."

Serena just looked more determined. "We shall see." And then, spying Andrew on the other side of the banquet hall, moved swiftly away from Blair.

...

"Serena's up to something," Blair warned Chuck that night as they lay side by side, naked and satiated from their love-making.

Chuck rolled his eyes. "After what we just did, the first topic you wish to discuss is my sister? Allow me to congratulate you on strangling my lust." Extracting himself from her arms, Chuck peeled himself from the bed and pulled on his nightshirt. He used the closet and washed his face, pouring two goblets of wine before returning to his wife.

"Are you saying that you are not in the least concerned for your sister's welfare?" Blair asked, raising an eyebrow. Before he could reply, she went on. "Well, seeing as that is clearly the case, I will refrain from mentioning my conversations with her in future, no matter how enlightening they may be."

Chuck was quick to protest and Blair hid her smirk. "Blair, do not be hasty. I simply meant that it was an odd time to suggest that we talk about her."

"Would you have preferred I mentioned it before?" She looked at him pointedly and smiled when he shook his head immediately.

"No. Of course not."

"Then we are both agreed that I mentioned the topic at the appropriate time, yes?"

Chuck nodded. "Are you going to continue in this manipulation of my mind or are we going to discuss my sister?"

Blair smirked, then sighed when she recalled her conversation with Serena. "Your father decided against allowing her to marry Nathaniel Archibald, and she is very upset about it."

"She is young; she will soon find a new love interest." Chuck shrugged and began to trail his fingers down the exposed skin of Blair's arm.

"I fear that she will cause a scandal," Blair said softly. "She seemed determined to have her way."

Chuck stilled a moment. "What exactly did she confide in you, Blair?"

"She told me no details, only that she is to make herself unfit for marriage to all but Nate. There is only one way that she could achieve that, and I pray God that she is intelligent enough not to do it."

"There is no way that she could make herself unfit for marriage," Chuck disagreed, but Blair bit her lip.

"Serena is only valuable to her father as an asset whilst her virtue remains intact. You would do well to remember that, Chuck. If you care for her or Nathaniel at all, you will do everything in your power to keep them apart, lest she succeeds in her plot and damages her prospects and the entire reputation of your family. Now, let us say no more on the matter. Just remember what I have told you and be on your guard. Never leave them alone, even for a second."

* * *

><p><em><strong>8th March 1519<strong>_

Serena's birthday was a relatively quiet affair; there was the usual banqueting and dancing, but no jousting this year. Lily was in too fragile a condition to risk alarming her and inviting early labour.

Serena happily drank her way into a stupor, thoroughly enjoying the rich wine that Andrew had gifted her with for her birthday.

Only Blair noticed how her eyes remained fixed on Nate the entire night, how the two seemed to silently communicate through a crowded banquet hall. From the unbridled lust that burned in Serena's eyes, and the wholly returned love that shone in Nate's, Blair knew that this stalemate between Serena and her father would not last long.

No, this was the calm before the storm, and Blair was not looking forward to the day when the heavens opened and rained havoc down upon them.

* * *

><p><em><strong>15<strong>__**th**__** March 1519**_

Almost three weeks had passed since the wedding, and Lily gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who she named Cecily in honour of her maternal grandmother.

Cecily was as bright as a ray of sunshine; fair and blonde with the bluest eyes that Blair had ever seen. They were such a vivid colour that they were likely to stay that way, and the tendrils of hair on the newborns head were already curling.

She was the image of Lily, with only Bart's bow-shaped lips and turned up nose.

It was around this time that Blair realised that she had missed her bleeding.

Eager to avoid gossip, Blair had Jennifer stain her sheets and shifts each morning with wine so that her other ladies would not suspect anything.

Blair knew on the second day that her bleeding was late that she was pregnant. She had been heavy and regular, every twenty seven days for five days of every month since she was thirteen, so her being pregnant with Chuck's child was the only possible conclusion.

She said nothing to Chuck, going along with the pretence that her cycle was as it should be. Blair waited, biding her time and not wanting to overshadow the birth of Lily and Bart's fourth daughter.

It was not all completely selfless, though. Blair was thrilled that Lily had managed to give birth to a healthy daughter – she was not the youngest of women – but she, in turn, did not want her announcement of being with child to be overshadowed by the birth of another. The life growing inside her deserved nothing more than complete devotion and love from all.

* * *

><p><em><strong>11<strong>__**th**__** April 1519**_

Baby Cecily was three weeks and six days old when Blair missed her bleeding for a second time. If there had been any doubt in her mind, it was now vanquished.

* * *

><p><em><strong>8<strong>__**th**__** May 1519**_

By the time that Blair had missed her third course, making it twelve weeks or so since her last bleeding, she had a small, distinct bump sticking out from between her hips, not to mention that she had been suffering from nausea and vomiting at regular intervals during the day, she could no longer stand the smell (or the thought, for that matter) of any kind of fowl-meat and had developed a particular fondness for boiled carrots.

She was with child.

Dressed in an emerald green gown with golden embroidery that covered her swelling belly well, Blair found herself overwhelmed with a sudden excitement and an immense desire to inform Chuck of her condition.

She lifted her skirts and ran to find him, bursting into his ante-chamber where he was busy holding council with his father and the most important men in the country. Blair leaned to whisper in his ear, begging an audience with him and apologising for interrupting, before pulling him from his chair and towards a window.

"What is it, Blair?" Chuck said sharply, half-amused and half-angry that his wife had disturbed him.

"I have missed my bleeding," Blair whispered, her eyes shining with happy tears and her beautiful lips stretched into a wide smile. "I am with child. _We _are with child."

Chuck blinked at her for a second before picking her up in his arms and twirling her around, peppering her face with kisses and crying out with wonder. "Our first child," he breathed, beaming at her. "How far along are you?"

Blair bit her lip and looked away as he placed her gently back on the floor. "Promise me that you will not be angry."

"How could I be angry with you?" Chuck admonished happily, "You have made me the happiest man that ever walked God's great Earth."

"If my calculations are correct, we conceived in the two weeks after our wedding night," Blair mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

"But, that was over two months ago," Chuck replied, furrowing his brow. "You knew and you did not tell me? How could you keep something like this from me?"

"I was scared," Blair squeezed her eyes closed. "I was scared that I was mistaken, or that the baby would die if I spoke of it too soon. I could not bear to lose a child, Chuck, and to tell you that I had been mistaken would have broken my heart." She looked up at him, her brown eyes full of sorrow and regret. "I am sorry, husband. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me for my trespass."

Immediately, Chuck softened. "I can deny you nothing, my incredible and beautiful wife. Promise me that you will never keep something from me again?"

Blair smiled. "I can deny you nothing," she echoed, sighing in relief.

Chuck gestured back to the table that his advisors were seated around and pulled a face, causing Blair to giggle. "Now go; speak of this to no-one until a midwife has examined you. I will arrange it as soon as I am able." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and gazed adoringly at her. "I love you, Blair."

"As I love you, Charles." She leaned up and cupped his cheek, kissing him lightly on the lips. "Until later."

"Until later," Chuck agreed, gazing wistfully after her sashaying form as she left the room. Turning back to his astounded councillors and a bemused father, Chuck quickly changed the subject, eager to avoid questions about his rather heated exchange with his wife.

...

"Ms. Goodwyn is here, my lady," Jennifer announced, ushering the midwife into the room.

Ms Goodwyn was a plump, kind looking middle aged woman, perhaps forty five if Blair had to register a guess, and she had wispy blonde hair that was held away from her face by a simple strip of brown velvet, and tied in a plait down her back.

"Your grace," Ms Goodwyn offered to Blair, curtseying lowly.

Blair gestured for her to stand and smiled shyly. "Call me Blair, I insist."

"Lay back on the bed," the midwife said, all pleasantries forgone now and her earlier kindness exchanged for a professional detachment. She washed her hands in some warm water and examined Blair, asking her questions about sickness, the absence of her courses, unusual aversions to food and all manner of pregnancy related criteria.

The midwife frowned when she realised just how large Blair's bump was. "And you estimate that you are nine or ten weeks?"

"Roughly, yes," Blair agreed, frowning for the first time.

"When was the first day of your last cycle?" Ms Goodwyn asked politely.

"17th February," Blair replied instantly.

"And you are regular?" the midwife continued.

Blair nodded. "Every twenty seven days since I was 13."

The midwife closed her eyes and used her fingers to count. She opened one eye and reached out a hand to feel Blair's stomach.

Blair was instantly alarmed. "Is something wrong?"

"Your grace is a little larger than one would have expected," The midwife replied with a shrug. "Do not worry, my lady. All little ones are different, some develop faster than others. Are you sure that you could not be further along? Fifteen or sixteen weeks, perhaps?"

Blair had flushed a deathly white at the implications of this new question.

"That is impossible," Chuck's voice cut in from the doorway, frowning and folding his arms. "The wedding was only ten weeks ago."

The midwife shrugged this off. "No matter." Turning to Blair, she said, "When your grace feels the baby quicken, contact me as soon as you are able. In my estimation, you are eleven weeks along. Congratulations, your Highness." Her last comment was directed towards Chuck, but her concerned gaze never left Blair's face. She reached over and covered Blair's hand with her own. "Try not to fret, dear. These things often work themselves out eventually."

"But how can I be eleven weeks along when the wedding was ten weeks ago?" Blair asked, eying Chuck warily from her position on the bed.

The midwife sighed but indulgently explained. "Because you and your husband more than likely conceived within the first four days of marriage, meaning that, rather than your regular bleed that should have happened on the 16th March, your grace was pregnant instead. It is a little confusing. Do not worry."

"When is the baby due?" Chuck piped up eagerly, apparently accepting the midwife's explanation and taking Blair's hand on the bed.

"Late November, I would estimate," the midwife replied, eying Blair's swollen stomach again.

"And what of carnal relations?" Chuck responded, glancing hungrily at his wife.

Smiling, Ms Goodwyn replied, "Other than being a little _gentler_, perhaps, you may continue as you normally would until it becomes too uncomfortable, or, God forbid, the pregnancy encounters any difficulties. You must wear your corsets looser, my lady, and after the twentieth week forgo them altogether. I recommend one goblet of strong wine once a week, other than that you should avoid strong substances. Avoid eggs, and make sure all of your food is cooked thoroughly." She drew Chuck to one side. "Her grace may start to long for particular food items; in my experience it is better to satiate these wants as soon as possible. Her body knows what it needs to help the baby, no matter how unusual the request. I once saw a girl eat clay whilst she was pregnant! She must get as much sleep as possible, and in my opinion smaller meals more often during the day are easier for the breeding mother rather than large portions every six hours or so. I must also warn you, your Highness; pregnant women can be difficult to handle. This is Blair's first pregnancy, and so the changes to her body will frighten her at first, not to mention that she will be come incredibly tempermental and highly strung at times. The only advice I can offer you in that field is this - be patient. She will thank you for it in the end."

Chuck nodded, slightly in awe at the amount of information that he had just been told. He already knew that pregnant women became increasinly emotional during pregnancy, but the mere _idea_ of shying away from an argument, especially with his wife, irked him more than he thought possible. Not arguing with her would be a real test of his love. "Thank you, Ms Goodwyn, I will keep all of that in mind."

"Now, if your Highness has no further questions, I have another engagement. Excuse me." The midwife curtsied and left Blair and Chuck on the bed, curled up in each other, Chuck's hand resting on his wife's belly.

"The perfect Christmastide gift," Chuck said softly, sitting up suddenly and pressing a kiss to Blair's swollen belly. "I hope we feel it kick soon."

Blair chuckled a little and Chuck glanced up, the tips of his ears flushing a light red in embarrassment. "What?" he asked defensively.

Blair shook her head and smiled. "I am the happiest that I have ever been," she confessed, sighing and closing her eyes.

"The feeling is mutual, my dear wife," Chuck replied, kissing her on the forehead. "I think we should inform my father first."

"Yes," Blair agreed, "I should not like to be the one to announce that my husband managed to impregnate me within mere _days_ of marriage! People would think that we were animals who could not control our urges!"

Chuck shrugged and smirked. "We _were_ animals who could not control our urges."

Blair flushed and bit her lip, looking naughtily up at Chuck, a hungry gleam in her eye. "_Were?_ Speak for yourself, Charles." And then she pulled him down on top of her, capturing his mouth with hers.

...

When Blair's dressers arrived she was still naked and rather busy with her husband, who was less than impressed when little Jennifer interrupted their fifth round of love-making.

Blair flushed and slid out of Chuck's grasp. "We must get ready for dinner, Chuck."

Chuck shook his head and eyed her bare skin hungrily. "They won't miss us. Come back to bed."

"I thought we were to announce our child tonight," Blair reminded him pointedly, folding her arms and pouting.

"Whilst the idea of informing the world that my beautiful wife will soon become ripe with my offspring, I would much rather continue ravishing her in our marriage bed." Chuck smirked and folded his arms beneath his head, glancing consciously at his erection that was tenting the sheets over his hips.

Blair rolled her eyes. "You are insatiable. Get out of bed, Charles. We have all night."

With a defeated groan, Chuck heaved himself from the bed and scowled at her, his hardness standing proud and defiant. "As you wish."

"Have you no modesty? As glorious as the view is, please cover yourself before my poor maids are blinded from the sight of your nakedness," Blair scolded, a smile hovering around her lips as she tossed him his breeches and shirt. "Go; dress and return for me in an hour or so."

Chuck dressed slowly, an adorable pout on his face. Blair shrugged on her own robe and tied it loosely around the waist; after all, there was no point in her dressing any further since she had to bathe before the banquet.

Looking at her now, Chuck couldn't believe that he had missed the small changes that had already happened to her body. He could clearly see the small, defined bump that stuck out boldly between her hips, the way her breasts were bigger, her cheeks rosier, and her hair shinier and thicker.

He was overcome with a desire to kiss her, and rushed forward to press his lips roughly against hers. Tangling his fingers in her mussed-up hair, Chuck let out a low rumbling growl. "You are the most beautiful creature that has ever existed. It gives me the greatest pleasure to know that your body will soon be round and heavy with my child." Chuck pulled away abruptly, leaving Blair breathless with wide eyes. "Until later," he murmured, smirking and looking her up and down. He turned to leave, and then, as an afterthought to the dressers, "Remember, nothing too tight."

"Yes... Until later," Blair squeaked, grabbing for a glass of watered wine and taking a drink. She closed her eyes and bit her lip to try to calm her sudden need to make love to her husband, and when she opened them again he was gone.

She chose a dark pink gown and took her bath, then had her hair dressed with tiny pearls that gleamed when they caught the light. She wore a simple gold necklace with a pink pearl pendant that hung low on her chest, dipping into the crevice between her breasts.

"Jennifer?" Blair called, inspecting her appearance from every angle in the triage of mirrors that stood in her ante-chamber.

"Yes, Madam?" The petite blonde replied, producing a pair of matching earrings to the necklace.

Blair hooped them through her ears with a smile and nodded in satisfaction. "Dress for dinner. You shan't wait on me tonight; enjoy the food and the dancing. It is about time I found you a husband, Jennifer, and I believe tonight is the opportune time to start fishing."

"Yes, my lady," Jennifer replied happily, curtseying lowly.

"Wear your blue gown- it will bring out your eyes," Blair instructed, scrutinizing Jennifer's appearance in detail. "You may borrow my sapphire earrings, and have your hair dressed with crystals. And from tomorrow, you will begin to train Lady Isobel in your duties. She will shadow you for four weeks until I deem her sufficient enough to take over your position as my Chief Lady in Waiting."

Jennifer appeared a little dismayed at this. "Forgive me, my lady, but what will become of me?"

Blair smiled kindly and placed a hand on Jennifer's shoulder. "You will remain in your post until you are married. And then you will have your own title."

"But surely, my lady, I am not highborn enough to marry someone with status. Especially not within England," Jennifer mumbled, fiddling with an errant lock of blonde hair nervously.

"You already know that I am pregnant with the future heir to this kingdom," Blair replied with a smirk. "It is to be announced tonight, securing my place as the future Queen of England no matter what the gender of the child I bare. My being the future Queen elevates the positions of those around me as well as my own. I am to be invested the official Princess of Wales in two weeks; I will be able to supply you with a dowry that would make the most noble ladies of this country jealous, not to mention that you are one of my closest friends. Suitors will be desperate to impress you."

Jennifer was overwhelmed with gratitude, so much so that tears brimmed in her eyes. "Oh, my lady, you are too kind..."

"You must call me Blair, Jennifer. You have been my loyal confidant and friend for three years now; I insist that you call me Blair, if only in private."

"Yes, my l- _Blair._ Thank you."

Blair smiled and nodded dismissively, tucking a curl behind her ear as Chuck arrived to escort her to dinner.

"Blair?" he called out, smirking as his eyes raked over her figure. "You look incredible."

She grinned and stepped towards him, taking his offered arm. "Thank you, husband, as do you."

...

Blair frowned as Chuck piled food onto her plate, raising an eyebrow when he loudly asked for her wine to be watered so as not to be overpowering. "Chuck, I'm pregnant, not starving to death."

Chuck pushed the plate towards her, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Eat."

"Seeing as I am carrying a child and not a litter of horses, I find it difficult to see just how I am supposed to eat _that_," Blair replied, wrinkling her nose at the pungent smell of chicken. "Did you put poultry on my plate?"

"Of course," Chuck shrugged, happily digging into his own meal.

"I'm having a particular aversion to poultry, Chuck," Blair muttered, gingerly picking up the three chicken legs he had given her and putting them on his own plate. She took a bite of her beef loin and moaned appreciatively.

"Good?" Chuck asked her with a smirk, his eyes locked on her mouth as it wrapped around her fork.

Blair nodded and took another bite. "Very."

They ate in a comfortable silence, Blair turning away from Chuck when he finally started to eat the chicken legs she had previously removed from her plate.

"It's just chicken, Blair," Chuck mumbled, rolling his eyes at her theatrics.

"It's vile is what it is," Blair replied cattily, smiling when she saw Jennifer conversing with a handsome young man across the room. "Who is that man talking to Jennifer?"

Chuck looked up and shrugged. "The son of the Earl of Kent, why?"

"Because she looks very taken with him is all," Blair replied quietly, her eyes still locked on the young couple. "She is of an age to be betrothed, Chuck. I would like to help her." Her voice grew soft and tender and she took his hand on the table. "She deserves to be loved. It would mean the world to me if you would speak in her favour to the gentlemen that you associate with. Portray her as virtuous and kind, but not too prudish. She comes from a good French family; her father was a Viscount and a very dear friend to my father. She has been my closest friend, and now I would like to do her justice by marrying her to a wealthy man who will love her more than he loves his money."

Touched by her feelings towards her maid, Chuck lifted Blair's hand to his lips and kissed her wrist. "It is my greatest wish to make you happy. I shall do everything in my power to help her obtain a good marriage."

"Thank you, husband."

"I do believe it is time to announce our news," Chuck said, grinning as Blair pulled a face. "I shall go and inform my father first."

Blair nodded and pressed a hand to Chuck's cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too, my stunning wife." Chuck rose from the table and made his way to his father, kneeling down between him and Lily. "Father? May I have a moment?"

Bart smirked at his son's odd request. "Of course." Bart stood and when the entire court stood with him, gestured for them all to sit down again with a roll of his eyes. He and Chuck moved out of the banquet hall and into a quiet corridor. "Speak," Bart instructed, smiling at Chuck's nerves.

"Blair is with child," Chuck blurted out, trying to fight the excited grin from his face. "I thought you should know before we tell the court."

"Congratulations!" The King beamed at his son, clapping him on the shoulder. "Praise be to God, this is the best news I could have heard! Is she far along?"

Chuck ran a hand through his hair and grinned. "Eleven weeks or so. It appears we conceived in the two weeks after the wedding. I was a little puzzled as to how she could be eleven weeks along when the wedding was only ten weeks ago, but the midwife explained that pregnancy is counted from the first day of a woman's course."

"Yes," Bart agreed, pulling a face. "I do not pretend to be an expert on the monthly cycle of women, but it is possible to conceive immediately after bedding a woman. If her cycle begins ten days to two weeks before a man takes her maidenhead, it is possible that she can become pregnant straight away. It happened with Serena, and then with Philip and Edward."

Chuck seemed relieved by his father's reassurance of the midwife's words. "That is what Ms. Goodwyn said."

"Ah! Ms Goodwyn! She was the midwife that was present at your birth, you know," Bart informed him. "She also birthed Serena, and Henry – God bless his soul, and Anne and Jane. She guided a younger midwife at the births of Edward and Philip, and the younger midwife singlehandedly birthed baby Cecily not three months ago. She is a wonderful woman, Ms Goodwyn; Blair will be in excellent and experienced hands during her labour."

"I am glad," Chuck said with a small smile.

"Come, my dear son; it is time to inform the court of your triumph."

Chuck scoffed. "It is hardly a triumph!"

Bart disagreed with him with the wag of a finger. "Now, now, son: I told you that she was of good, fertile stock!"

"Father..." Chuck said, the warning implicit in his tone.

"Alright, alright," Bart backed off, rolling his eyes and not pushing his son. "I am so happy for you, my son. You will make a wonderful father."

And for the first time since Blair had told him of their news, he was genuinely frightened. It had finally sunk in: he was going to be a father. Chuck paled and his eyes grew wide, but he said nothing in reply to Bart other than a non-commital grunt to indicate that he had heard him.

Oh, God. He, Charles Tudor, philanderer, manipulator, womaniser, had created a legitimate life with another human being - a life which was half of him and half of his beautiful wife.

Oh, God. Blair. She had no idea of just how spectacularly he was going to fail at fatherly duties. He couldn't even look after himself, never mind a totally dependent infant. She had absolutely no idea of who she had married, the man he had been before he had met her.

Yes, he had commissioned the portrait for her, but he had had sex with countless amounts of women, had two illegitimate female children already by banished maids that she did not know about. He had never had to worry about emotional attachment to Mary and Elizabeth's mothers, he had only seen them three times in his entire life, and it was the first time that he was ashamed of it. Those poor girls, _his_ poor girls. He hadn't treated them fairly, not at all. It wasn't their fault that he hadn't been prepared to commit to their mothers, partly because he could not bare to give up his womanising and partly because their mothers were so low born.

God. He should tell her.

But how would he tell her? How _could_ he tell her that he already had a five year old daughter called Mary and a three year old called Elizabeth?

She was going to hate him.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

* * *

><p><strong>Oh dear, poor Chuck! Let's all just remember that he was a womaniser before he started dating Blair on the show, so it's not completely inconcievable that he would already have two illegitimate children with other women, what with the lack of contraception and abortion. <strong>

**Leave lots of reviews... I updated super fast just for you!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

**_8th May 1519 - continued_**

Blair's smile faltered as she saw a worried-looking Chuck return back into the banquet hall. His face was ashen, his jaw locked in the way that it did when he was extremely uncomfortable.

He approached her slowly, and Blair felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up when he drew her away from the festivities and into a quiet corner of the large room.

Blair lifted a hand and cupped his cheek. "What is it, Chuck? You're frightening me. Is it your father? Did he not react well?"

"I have a confession to make," he mumbled, unable to meet her eyes.

"You do?"

Chuck looked up at her and his heart shattered. She looked so beautifully naive and earnest, and clearly completely unaware that he was about to reveal his most sordid secret. "I... I..."

"Chuck, tell me," Blair encouraged softly, "You know that you can confide in me."

"I have two children already," Chuck blurted out, and Blair dropped her hand from his face as if his skin burned her palm.

She sighed and shook her head sadly. "Why has it taken you so long to tell me? I have been your wife for nigh three months now, Chuck."

Chuck opened and closed his mouth a few times and blinked stupidly at her. "You are not angry?"

Snorting in a very unladylike fashion, Blair eyed him dubiously. "Angry? Why on earth would I be angry?"

"Because our child is not my first child," Chuck replied quietly, shame echoing from every word.

Blair went on as if he had not spoken; she had not wanted an answer to her question. "I am disappointed that you did not tell me sooner, yes... but angry? Those children were birthed before we fell in love, and I was well aware of your reputation with women before I married you."

Chuck looked away in embarrassment. "I wish you had been the first, Blair," he said in a choked voice, reaching out and grabbing her small hands so that they were encased in his own.

"I know," Blair replied with a small smile. Then she bit her lip. "In truth, I already knew of Mary. She is five now, is she not?"

"How did you know about her?" Chuck wondered, pulling Blair into his arms. He was in shock that she was not absolutely irate at him.

"Mary's grandmother and aunt both worked in my mother's household, and now work in Claude's. Gossip spreads faster than disease... you already know that, Chuck." Blair pulled back a little to look in Chuck's eyes. "Tell me of your other child."

"Elizabeth is three years old. Her mother died in childbirth. Mary's mother died of the consumption when she was two," Chuck supplied dutifully. "I haven't seen either of my daughters for well over a year, longer, in fact."

"But, don't you miss them?"

Chuck flushed a little. "Truthfully?" Blair nodded and gestured for him to go on. "I do not know them enough to miss them."

Blair closed her eyes as if she was in pain, and when she spoke her voice was filled with emotion. "Chuck... They are your _children._ They deserve to have a father."

Laughing bitterly, Chuck scoffed. "They deserve a better father than I. I was little more than a boy when Mary was born, and both the King and Mary's mother agreed that it was in the child's best interests if I and my world kept well away from an innocent infant. She does not need to be tainted by me, Blair. I am not a good man. I never have been. I am a manipulative, depraved individual."

"You are wrong," Blair said strongly. "You _were_ manipulative and depraved... no longer, Chuck. You have been a loyal and loving husband to me, and you will be a wonderful father to our baby." And then, a little more vehemently as her frustration with her husband began to rise, "But not even you, the Prince of England, have the right to deny two innocent little girls of a father. Like it or not."

"What would you have me do?" Chuck asked desperately, wringing his hands.

"Bring the girls to court. They are my stepdaughters... I should like to know them, even if you as their _father_ would not," Blair spat out. Chuck stared at her helplessly, but Blair would not be moved. "I have changed my mind. I _am _angry. I am angry that your poor children are orphaned because of your pigheadedness and inability to see the good in yourself! Those girls need you whether you like it or not, and if you refuse to help them then _I _shall."

"Blair, please..."

"It is not in your best interests to interrupt a pregnant woman, prince or not!" Blair shrieked, her tantrum in full flow now as she slapped her hand against his doublet. "Stop wallowing in self pity and show your daughters that you care! God forbid that something should happen to one of them and you never got to see them again! I long to see little Eduoard again, God knows I would swim the ocean to see him smile, and he is only my nephew! I cannot fathom how you do not long to press your girls to your chest and smother them in kisses! They are a part of you! They have the same right to be recognised by you as our own child does! If you could not handle the responsibility of being a father then heaven only knows why you partook in the marriage act with their mothers! Good god, Chuck, isn't it about time you grew up and stopped being so selfish?"

Blair's angry words hung heavy in the air and before Chuck had the chance to reply – which he couldn't, anyway, because he was shocked into silence by his wife's tirade – Blair had lifted her skirts and stormed away from him. Chuck fell back against the wall and slid to the floor, folding his arms over his knees.

Even after her furious chastisement, Chuck could not help but smile a little as he thought of his enraged wife. She never failed to surprise him. And, in all honesty, he was glad that she had been so blunt in expressing her opinions. Not that he could expect anything else; this was the same woman who had pushed him into the dirt when they were children and had been completely unapologetic about assaulting a crowned prince. He pondered over her words, and soon realised that she was absolutely right.

She would be a fierce mother. She was not angry that he had two children already, in fact she seemed to accept it without fuss, but it was his deception that had hurt her personally, and she was only furious on the behalf of his two children. She was right. They deserved a father, even one as poor as he.

He would bring them to court, Chuck decided. He wanted to show her that he was capable of change, of being a good father and a decent man.

...

Blair swept back to her seat, ignoring the fact that the entire eyes of the court were fixed on her after her loud and lengthy rant, and plopped back down onto her chair. "Wine," she instructed. A server filled her goblet a third, and made to add water, but Blair covered the rim with her hand. "No," she said. "Whether you add the water or not, there is still wine in the goblet and I am still drinking the same amount." She picked up her goblet and drained it, glaring around at anyone and everyone, almost daring someone to return her angry feelings.

"Come with me." Bart's voice in her ear startled her a little but she stood and followed him nonetheless. She was shocked when he pulled her into his privy chamber and closed the door behind them. He did not allow her to speak, only gazed at her stonily. "I do not know how the King of France rules his country or commands his court," the King began, "But I do know that _I_ will not stand for my son, the crowned prince of this country and my heir, being spoken to like an ignorant child. I will not allow you to make a mockery of my son, girl, and it is my express wish that you apologise to him immediately. You are his wife, not his ruler."

Blair raised an eyebrow at Bart's demand but regained her composure. "I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request, your Majesty, for to do as you wish would go against my Christian conscience. I spoke nothing but the truth. Perhaps if you had instilled Christian values in_ him_ more securely then you would not have two illegitimate grandchildren, _Sire_."

"God forgive me but if you were not pregnant then I would have you whipped for your impudence!" Bart spat at her, and Blair eyed him coldly.

"I do not cower before the threats of men, your Majesty, no matter how dire the threat or how high the man. Whip me if you like; my opinion on the matter will not change. I will not apologise for my honesty."

Bart's temper seemed to suddenly evaporate, and he sat down on his throne with a heavy sigh. "I can see why my son loves you, Blair. You have the heart of a woman but the head of a man. Forgive me for my words; they were spoken in anger and I deeply regret threatening you."

"There is nothing to forgive, your Majesty. You are the King and well within your rights to be angry that I verbally disgraced your eldest son." Blair's words were stiff and formal but polite, a clear sign that she was still guarded around Bart.

Bart shook his head and extended a hand. "Come. Sit beside me and we shall talk awhile." He gestured for Blair to take the throne beside him, the one in which Lily normally sat, and stared around the elaborately decorated privy chamber. Blair gazed at him warily, but took the seat beside him. "My son is a good man, Blair," Bart said quietly, a hint of a frown pulling at his lips. "He is a good man, but he is deeply frightened of disappointing me, and more recently of disappointing _you_. I admire that you put him in his place – God only knows that Charles is not the easiest man to live with – but you must refrain from doing so in such a public place. I respect your bravery and courage, more so because I know that even my own wife and children would not dare to speak to me in such a direct fashion, and you will be a wonderful mother. You championed those girls – they have a true ally and friend in you, and you should be incredibly proud of your esteem. I agree with every word that you said, I do, but you must understand... those girls are _his_ children, not yours, and you must allow him the time he needs to come to terms with their existence."

"Time?" Blair said in disbelief, "Time? He has had at least three years to acknowledge those girls and as of yet has not! Time is all he has had! He does not have time, your Majesty: Charles and I are having our own child, and I should like to be on good enough terms with his children so that they do not feel threatened by the arrival of a legitimate heir to the throne of_ your_ country. You are admired in Europe for being a 'family man'; you educate your children at court rather than hiding them from sight in a palace miles away, you value your children to the extent that you dine with them regularly, you know all of their exact birthdates, and you know all of their _names_ which is more than I can say for a good few male monarchs in Europe!" Blair took a breath and smiled a little. "I am not all sweetness and light, Sire. I do not mean to preach. I am keen to encourage Chuck becoming fond of his two children for political purposes, too. If those girls grow up alienated from their royal father, they will resent him, and perhaps rise against him when he is King. If they are brought to court, they can be honoured as royal children, but in a way that their positions are clearly below that of any children Chuck and I might have. Are you so blind to the future that you cannot admit that I speak sense? Would you put your country at risk of civil war because of your eldest son's ignorance?"

Bart considered this in awe for a moment. "I thank God that you were not born a man, Blair. You would have made a formidable enemy to Charles."

Blair smirked and shook her head bashfully. "I am sure that, had I been born a man, I would have been betrothed to Serena to ensure that I could never be an enemy to Charles, your Majesty."

Bart laughed out loud at her bluntness. "You are probably right, my dear." He turned to look at her, and Blair was taken aback by the intensity in his eyes. "You are so much like your father. You have his temper and his courage. I miss him greatly."

"As do I," Blair said softly, tears brimming in her eyes. "I never thanked your Majesty for the portrait that Chuck commissioned... I know that he would not have thought of that on his own, and I am eternally grateful that you thought to plant the seed in his mind. You cured my homesickness before it had chance to take root."

"It was no matter," Bart shrugged. "Come, it is time to announce your pregnancy, my dear girl."

Blair groaned. "I suppose I should apologise to Chuck, shouldn't I? If not for my beliefs then for the manner in which I expressed them."

"I think that would be wise," Bart replied gently. "He will not be expecting it." He leaned a little closer. "I would recommend blaming your pregnancy for your flare in temper. He will not be able to be angry with you after that."

Blair laughed a little and linked her arm through Bart's. "Why, your Majesty, I do believe that you make quite the formidable foe yourself!"

They re-entered the banquet hall in a comfortable silence, and Chuck looked up hopefully when Blair approached him. To his absolute shock and delight, she perched herself on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his neck in front of the entire court. "I am sorry, my love," she whispered huskily into his ear, "I should not have lost my temper... Our pregnancy is playing havoc with my mind."

Chuck wrapped his arms around her. "I am sorry that I did not tell you sooner," he mumbled, "I will make it up to you."

"Yes," Blair murmured wickedly. "Tonight you shall make it up to me."

Chuck's face lit up and he shifted Blair more comfortably on his lap, ignoring the excited stares of the court. It was then that Chuck registered that Bart was addressing everyone about the importance of familial ties and love and the like, and was a little horrified when the topic of his two illegitimate came up.

"... It is a universally known secret that my eldest son has two daughters already. Thanks to some gentle persuasion from the Princess of Wales, it is my wish that the youngsters come to court and are raised here amongst the royal children. "

There was a bout of excited murmuring and Chuck squeezed Blair's waist gently. Having seen Bart practically drag Blair into the adjoining privy chamber, Chuck was almost sure that the two had had words. "Was he hard on you?"

Blair smiled a catlike smile. "He tried to be, though he was not expecting my unimpressed response."

"His temper is volatile at best," Chuck said apologetically, but Blair shrugged and took a sip of Chuck's wine.

"He is much like my own father, except with less hair and a ruddier complexion."

Chuck barked out a disbelieving laugh. "Oh, my sweet wife, how I love you."

Bart called for absolute silence, sending Chuck and Blair a pointed glance to stem their whispers, and raised his goblet. "It is my greatest pleasure to announce that our honoured court will soon be blessed with the arrival of the first child of the Prince and Princess of Wales." He quieted a moment to allow the hushed inhabitants of the banquet hall to absorb this information. "To the Prince and Princess of Wales."

The toast was echoed around the room loudly, with cheers and cat-calls that made Blair giggle into her goblet. She was a little disgruntled when Chuck adjusted her position on his lap and also raised his goblet, clearing his throat to recapture the attention of the court. "To my beautiful wife," he toasted reverently, gazing at her like a man seeing the sun for the first time. "What an incredible creature she is."

Blair smiled up at him adoringly, cupping his cheek with her palm and kissing him full on the mouth. The entirety of the court cheered in delight, including the King himself, and Blair could not fight the grin from her face as she leaned to put her mouth to his ear. "We are to bed, husband," she purred, flicking out her tongue to graze his earlobe.

Chuck shuddered at the unexpected contact and Blair bit her lip as the rough hair on his unshaven face rubbed against her neck. "Now," she added, more forcefully.

She stood up and squeaked when Chuck's hand came to rest at the juncture of her thighs, just below her buttocks - she was, in effect, sitting on his hand, even though they were both stood up. He squeezed and she let out a breathy gasp, her cheeks flushing as wanton desire and arousal flooded through her body.

She tugged him from the banquet hall, ignoring the fact that all eyes were on them and almost everyone in the court was laughing at their display of newly-wed passion, and waited until they were in a deserted corridor to press him up against a wall.

Her fingers found the laces of his breeches and she slipped her hot palm inside, laughing breathlessly when she felt him hard and ready against her hand. She tightened her grip on him and Chuck moaned, reaching down his own hand to still her movements. "Someone could see," he warned her, his eyes heavily lidded with lust.

Blair raised an eyebrow and smirked deliciously. "Then I suppose you had better be quick in satisfying your wife, lest we be interrupted and scandalized."

Chuck gazed at her blearily for a moment before sweeping back a heavy tapestry that had hidden a small alcove along the passage way. He smirked when he realised that a small wooden stool had been stowed there, and pushed Blair down to sit upon it.

Kneeling before his flushed and panting wife, Chuck lifted her skirts over his head, so that only his feet could be seen. Blair giggled incredulously. "Chuck... what're you... Oh!"

Her head fell back against the wall as Chuck's sharp tongue found the nub at the apex of her thighs and she bit her lip to keep from crying out from the heady pleasure he was producing from deep within her belly.

His fingers twisted and curled inside her most secret of places as his mouth worked the outside, and Blair was seeing stars and spouting whispered profanities until wave after wave of ecstasy exploded from within her. Her thighs trembled around Chuck as he continued his ministrations whilst she rode out her orgasm, and when her heartbeat had returned to somewhat normal Chuck's head emerged from under her dress.

His lips shone with her essence and Blair could not help herself; she leaned forwards and pressed herself against him, kissing him deeply, her tongue swirling around his.

She moaned deeply into his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue, and when she pulled away his eyes were wide with enjoyment.

"As much as I would appreciate continuing our little tryst behind this tapestry, what I have in mind for us requires a great deal more space than this alcove can offer us," Chuck growled against her lips as she rubbed herself against his arousal. "And I do believe that we will receive greater pleasure from the experience if you can vocalise your admiration of my technique and stamina."

Blair smacked him hard on the chest but was unable to hide her smirk. "Indeed." Chuck made to refasten the laces of his breeches but Blair raised a devious eyebrow. "Leave them. It will save time later."

Chuck shook his head in disbelief but left the laces open. He peeked around the tapestry, and, seeing that the coast was clear, pulled Blair out from behind him. They walked quickly to their marital chambers, and when Blair tried to pull away from him, Chuck's grip on her was steadfast.

"Where're you going?"

Blair flushed a little. "I need to use the closet."

Chuck smirked. "Don't."

"Why?" Blair wondered curiously, but Chuck simply shrugged.

"All in good time, my dear wife, all in good time."

...

Afterwards, Blair and Chuck lay tangled in their damp sheets, gasping for breath. "That was incredible," Blair half-moaned half-sighed, smiling like a little girl who had stolen a sweetmeat because her thighs were beginning to ache. Definitely worth it.

"Having a reasonably full bladder _before_ makes the _duration_ more intense."

"Remind me never to use the closet again," Blair replied conversationally, yawning and stretching. She lay back and rested her hands over her swelling belly, smiling as she thought of the life within.

"Have you thought of any names?" Chuck asked her, one of his hands covering hers as he leaned up on an elbow to gaze down at his naked and satiated wife.

Blair shrugged in a non-committal way. "A few."

Chuck scoffed fondly. "Blair, you are a woman. You have probably had your children's names chosen since you were four years old."

Blair sat up in a huff and climbed out of bed so that Chuck would not spy her blush. "Then why did you ask?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>10th July 1519<em>**

When Blair was around twenty weeks pregnant, she had the figure of a woman who was close to giving birth. Rumours were rife amongst the court and even Chuck and Bart were a little perturbed by the fact that she seemed to be much farther along than was possible.

...

It was a fine day in early summer when it happened.

Blair and her ladies, accompanied by Serena, Philippa – Andrew's bride to be - and a select few of hers, were sitting on a blanket in the palace gardens, quite happily discussing court gossip and embroidering baby clothes for the pending arrival of Blair and Chuck's child. Chuck and Andrew were visiting the King of Scotland, and Blair was missing her husband greatly.

They were approached by Cardinal Wolsey and a large retinue of armed men, and Blair was quite alarmed to see that Wolsey's eye was fixed directly on her.

He did not bow when he approached her, and Blair narrowed her eyes as Jennifer helped her to her feet. "Cardinal?" she greeted him shortly, frowning when Wolsey had to fight a smirk from his face.

"Your Highness, I deeply regret to inform you that it is the wish of his Majesty King Bartholomew III that you be placed under house arrest, due to an investigation into the legitimacy of your child and your chastity before your wedding night."

Blair's mouth fell open in shock. "I beg your pardon?"

"I am in no position to answer questions now, my lady. You must leave your embroidery and choose two of your ladies to accompany you."

Jennifer stepped forward immediately, volunteering her services, but Blair shook her head and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "No, Jennifer. You must write to Chuck – tell him what is being done to me. He knows I was a maid on our wedding night and he will vouch for that. Go, now, and write to him. Find the fastest rider you can and pay him double. Chuck must return at once; it is of upmost importance. Go."

Blair selected two of her quieter ladies to keep her company and closed her eyes as she felt them fill with tears. "I demand that you take me to his Majesty at once," she instructed Wolsey, but his eyes shone with mirth. "This is ridiculous!"

"His Majesty has no wish to see you, my lady Blair. Not today or any day, in fact, until this matter is resolved."

"How dare you!" Blair seethed, "I am a Princess of France and a Princess of England and you will address me properly!" At this, two of the guards stepped forwards and grasped Blair's arms, forcibly marching her back to her chambers. "On what grounds do you have to imprison me? Unhand me at once, I am a pregnant woman!"

Had she not been pregnant and emotional, Blair would have felt ashamed that she did not walk with dignity back to her chambers. However, since she _was _pregnant and emotional, Blair lashed out with such force against the guards that restrained her that she elbowed one of them in the eye. "My husband will have your head for this, Wolsey," Blair warned irately, "You will see. You will rue the day that you ever crossed me."

"Ah, my child, but it was _you_ who crossed me first," Wolsey said in a blithe tone.

Blair was pushed into her chambers and her ladies tumbled in after her. "You will regret this, Wolsey," Blair hissed through clenched teeth, but Wolsey slammed the door in her face and locked the door behind him.

Blair sank to the floor and began to weep.

It was bad enough that she was getting stared at everywhere she went because of her swollen stomach, but now she had been imprisoned and thought guilty of being unchaste because of it?

How had it come to this?

It was just typical of Chuck to be away from court on the one day that she actually needed him!

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it's been such a long time. This chapter was actually like 9,000 words but I chopped it in half because too much happened in it for it to make sense. I wonder if anyone can guess what's going to happen next? :)<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

Aw! You're all lovely! I wanted to do a 'special mentions' thing but decided that it would take me too long to acknowledge every single one of you, so here is a collective thank you: YOU ARE ALL AMAZING. I would also like to say a huge KUDOS to '**notoutforawalk'** who was actually the only one who saw this entire mess coming way back on the 6th May. Hope this chapter exceeds your expectations, and just so you all know, I don't do the Cliff-hangers on purpose! Please put down your pitchforks.

Jen x

* * *

><p><em><strong>13th July 1519<strong>_

Chuck re-read the letter for the twelfth time and crumpled it up in his hands, pressing the paper against his forehead as if he could telepathically change it's contents.

The bastard.

It was all Wolsey's doing – his father had been ill of late, the physicians called it a sickness of the mind - and the overreaching butcher's dog had clearly seen the opportune moment to take advantage of the current weak state of the court to impose his will upon the suffering King.

He had actually locked Blair up. Chuck knew that Wolsey wasn't Blair's biggest advocate, nor was Blair his, but she was a heavily pregnant woman all the same and he had _locked her up_.

Chuck was going to kill him. He made haste apologies to the Scottish king, thanking him heartily and swiftly for his hospitality, before readying his horse and setting off for Richmond.

It would be three hard days ride at least before he could resolve the situation, and considering Andrew had insisted upon accompanying him to Scotland, the women of the court would remain vulnerable until Chuck was close enough to influence Wolsey's decisions.

Chuck did not stop to rest until he reached Lancashire. He bought a new horse every time the present beast seemed to reach exhaustion, and though he could feel his eyes drooping, the crowned prince managed to go two days without sleep before finally admitting defeat.

He bedded down in a simple stable in the middle of the night for there was no time for formalities or propriety. He had to get back to court.

...

_**16th July 1519**_

Blair sighed and stared out of her window. It was the fifth day of her imprisonment and she was tiring of the same walls. Elaborately decorated as they were, they did not change, and she believed that she was beginning to go mad.

"You will let me in at once!" A voice shrieked from the door, and Blair rolled her eyes at Serena's insistent cry. Now that she had recovered from her tantrum, her dignity had returned, and when the guards finally relented and let the princess in, Blair chided her.

"You should not act in such a way. It is common and shows immaturity."

Serena shook off the comment and pulled Blair into a corner. Her expression was alight with excitement and something else. Blair settled on fear.

"What is it?" Blair said at once, taking Serena's hand.

"I am pregnant," Serena whispered. "You must help me."

Blair paled and took a step away from her sister-in-law. "You went against my advice after all, then."

Serena's eyes filled with tears. "It was the only way," Serena breathed. "Please, Blair. Help me. My father is not in his right mind... He sits on his throne and his eyes stare at nothing, and whilst Wolsey whispers poison in his ear nor I or my mother have any sway on him. He refuses to speak to either of us."

"And what is it that you expect me to do?" Blair replied in a scathing tone. "It is not as if I am in any position to speak to the King, considering it was on his orders that I am locked away here like a common prisoner."

"No," Serena interrupted, "It was not he, but Wolsey who suggested that an enquiry be made towards your chastity. My mother defended you, claiming that you could be carrying twins, but by then Wolsey had already told my father that a man had come forward claiming to have carnal knowledge of you. My father did not do this to you, Blair; I swear it on the soul of my unborn child."

"Does Nathaniel know?"

Serena bit her lip. "Not yet. I needed to ask your advice first."

Blair scoffed but looked a little touch. "Because you listened so well the first time," she grumbled, but sighed and pushed a lock of hair from Serena's face. "I have a manor in the countryside... nothing too grand, mind, but it will do until you can be married."

"Oh, Blair," Serena squealed in delight, "I knew you would help me."

"I am not helping you," Blair replied in a steely voice. "You have committed a great sin, Serena, a sin for which your child will pay the price should people notice your pregnancy. I am doing this for myself – when I am queen I will not have it said that my first niece or nephew is a bastard." Serena's face fell, but Blair went on. "You will go to my manor in the countryside. Take Lily with you, and the children if you can. If there is no way to take the children, you must leave them behind; Jennifer will see to it that they are well cared for until your return. You must leave in the dead of night and avoid detection if you can. Only I, Chuck and Jennifer know of its exact location, so you will be safe there until Chuck's return." She pulled off her signet ring and pressed it into Serena's hand. "A maid will answer the door and demand that you leave. Show her my signet ring and she will let you in. Once inside you must remain so, lest you be seen and given away. It is only a couple of hours ride away, if you are lucky you will make it before dawn. Leave tonight and pack only a handful of provisions. You must flee this court before Wolsey discovers your indiscretion and you earn the same fate as I."

Serena's eyes filled with tears. "This feels like goodbye."

"It is not goodbye," Blair said firmly. "I am going to be the queen of this land. It is my duty to protect those that I love. You must go now, before Wolsey gets suspicious. When you leave my chambers, you must act as if I am guilty to ease his conscience. I know many men like him and the only way to placate them is to play them at their own game."

"Thank you," Serena murmured softly. "You have done me and my family a great kindness."

"Do not take Philippa!" Blair demanded. "We do not know if she can be trusted. The Spanish pay Wolsey a pension and Philippa is too much of a liability until her fate is officially tied to Andrews."

"And when will that be?" Serena asked fearfully.

Blair shrugged brazenly. "When she is pregnant with his child. Go now, Serena. You must."

Serena nodded and walked to the door, but Blair's quiet voice stopped her before she could leave. "And Serena? Congratulations. I will pray that your wishes come true."

Serena smiled at her sister in law and nodded. "Thank you."

...

Bart sat back in his throne, his eyes fixed on a wooden beam. His face was pale and his body had grown thin, and he looked much older than he had even months previously. He had aged dramatically since Blair had announced her pregnancy, and even now when she was locked away in her chambers, he longed to beg for her forgiveness.

He had been suffering from lapses in memory and flares of the temper for almost a year prior, but a little after his eldest sons had left for Scotland around three weeks ago, it was as if a fire had been lit in his mind and now he was absolutely powerless. His speech was stinted and the right side of his face was slumped, and spittle dripped from the corner of his mouth. He needed a stick to walk and even then he shuffled along slowly, like a cripple, and though he knew of the power that Wolsey had seized, he could do nothing about it.

And since only Wolsey and a handful of servants knew of the extent of his condition, his own family thought he had turned against them because he could not physically say otherwise.

So Bart sat back in his throne because he could do nothing else. Until Chuck returned and claimed the throne, Bart could only suffer in silence and watch in horror as Wolsey singlehandedly took control of England.

...

_**17th July 1519**_

Serena and Lily managed to successfully flee Richmond with all of the children, leaving behind all of their riches and gowns, taking only what they absolutely needed. Blair was elated when Jennifer came to her the next day and told her. Fleetingly, Blair began to believe that hope remained after all.

And then she began to bleed.

"Fetch a midwife and a physician! Quickly!" One of Blair's ladies hollered, leaping forward to catch Blair as she crumpled the ground, clutching her stomach and wailing in agony.

* * *

><p><em><strong>19th July 1519<strong>_

Chuck returned to court eight days after Blair had been imprisoned.

His father seemed comatose – sitting slumped on his throne, a weak and frail old man where a King had once sat.

Wolsey refused to let him see his own wife.

...

Now that Chuck was returned , the formal investigation could begin.

"I want to see Blair first," Chuck insisted, but Wolsey refused adamantly.

"She could bewitch you with her feminine wiles, your Highness," the Cardinal said firmly, "It is the wish of your father that you and your wife remain separated until after the investigation has been concluded."

Chuck narrowed his eyes. "You spoke of evidence that contradicted Blair's vow that she was a maid. I should like to see it."

Wolsey smirked as if this was exactly what he had wanted.

"Bring forth the witnesses."

Though there were only two witnesses, Chuck was taken aback to see little Jennifer there, but once he noticed the scowl on her face he realised that it was not of her own will.

"Report what you have seen, my lady," a page instructed, and Jennifer narrowed her eyes. "On pain of death you must speak to truth," the page went on, "lest your immortal soul be condemned for your lies."

Jennifer glared at the page and then at Wolsey, but as she glanced helplessly at Chuck, she began to speak. "Her Highness the Princess Blair was friends with a man in the French Army. Their fathers had fought together once in battle, and my lady grew fond of the company of the soldier and his father." She turned pleadingly to Chuck, begging him to understand. "It was not a torrid love affair as his Eminence has led you to believe. In all of her years of friendship with the soldier, her Highness was only ever alone with him once, and then only for minutes before the crossing to England. There was no time for carnality even if my lady had wanted to participate in such actions."

The page nodded solemnly. "And do you swear it on your immortal soul that you speak the truth?"

"I do," Jennifer said in a resolute voice. "My lady was a maid when she went to the bed of the crowned prince of England, and has been faithful to him since."

"And do you have any evidence of that?" Wolsey asked crudely, and though Jennifer's cheeks coloured, her voice did not falter.

"I have the stained sheets in a locked box in my chamber. To produce them would go against my conscience and my lady's honour, but if doing so will save her life then I am more than happy to show the court the bloodied linen of the wedding night."

Chuck bit his lip as an unwilling memory of their wedding night flashed before his eyes. He glanced down at his lap and frowned, almost as if he was chiding the beast that lay in wait there.

Jennifer was ordered to fetch the linen, and when she produced it, Wolsey gestured for a woman – who was probably from a whorehouse judging on the sight of her – to step forwards. She lifted the sheet to her nose and sniffed at the blood stain, before nodding.

"That is pigs blood, m'lord," the woman said decisively, and even Chuck himself scoffed.

"You are mistaken," a steely voice from the doorway.

All eyes of the court looked up and Blair raised her eyebrows. "I was a maid on my wedding night. On the life of my unborn child I swear it."

Wolsey spluttered at her sudden appearance but it wasn't exactly becoming to actually argue with a princess in public. "Your Highness, you were asked to remain in your chambers."

"Asked?" Blair scoffed, "Had you not placed three guards outside my door and forbidden me from leaving on pain of death, I would agree with you."

Chuck's hand found his dagger. "He threatened you?" Blair smirked at her husband's anger and shook her head, indicating that he should stay silent. She had been fighting her own battles since she was a little girl, and was not about to let a man do it for her now.

"Even so, your Highness, you should not be here," Wolsey said in a placating tone, but Blair smiled and shrugged.

"Is this not an investigation into my supposed adultery before marriage? Who knows better than I of my carnal activities?"

Seeing his wife's game, Chuck had to hide his grin. "She will stay. Bring her a chair. A _comfortable_ one."

Blair nodded in satisfaction when a chair was brought for her, and she folded her arms. "Proceed," she said in a mocking tone, her eyes betraying her utter amusement at the current situation.

Wolsey longed to leap out of his chair and knock some respect into the insolent French Princess that sat before him, but he could not go against the decision of a Prince.

"Very well," Wolsey continued. "Bring forth the next witness."

And when Sir Louis, the same knight who Blair had begged to take her virtue and refused, stepped forwards, all the colour drained from her face.

Her reaction did not go unnoticed, and Wolsey's self-satisfied smirk was soon back in place.

The page gestured for Jennifer to step down and the maid immediately returned to her mistress' side. She knelt on the floor before her and kissed Blair's ruby ring. "Forgive me, my lady. I told the truth and nothing more."

"Then there is nothing to forgive," Blair said kindly, knowing of Jennifer's loyalty to her.

Louis sneered at Blair and nodded at Chuck in a contemptuous way. He caught Chuck's eye and jerked his head at Blair, licking his lips as he did so. "Nice, isn't she?"

Chuck seethed, but Blair's outraged scoff and Wolsey's calm clearing-of-the-throat refocused his attentions from murder to listening.

"You must report a true recollection of events, Sir Louis ," the same page instructed, and Blair scoffed. "On pain of death you must speak to truth," the page went on, "lest your immortal soul be condemned for your lies."

Louis nodded again and grinned at Blair's expression. "You have my word."

"Not that that is worth much," Blair muttered from her corner, and Chuck smirked at the obstinacy of his wife.

"Speak," Wolsey commanded.

"My father was an old and valued friend of His Majesty King Louis," the knight began. "They fought together in battle, and her Highness Princess Blair and I were introduced as children by our fathers. My low breeding did not matter to the good King; he knew that my father was a good man and thought Blair and I would become fast friends. Our friendship eventually blossomed into something more, but only once I married." Gasps echoed around the court and Blair looked up.

Her eyes widened when she saw Wolsey mouthing the exact same words as Louis. It was as if the entire thing had been scripted and planned. Yes, Louis was speaking the truth, but in such a way that made her sound deviant and immodest.

"Minutes before her Highness' ship sailed for England, she sat on my lap and demanded that I take her virtue, because she did not want to surrender such an intimate part of herself to an English prince."

Chuck looked over at Blair and when she boldly met his gaze, he knew that Louis spoke the truth. He slammed his fist down on the table. "Enough!"

Blair stood up. "Let him finish," she commanded. "Let him finish so that I too can be questioned."

Chuck glared at her, but nodded his agreement with a sigh. "Continue."

Louis winked at Blair and turned back to Wolsey. "And the rest is history, as they say."

Blair barked out a little laugh. "Do you see?! He cannot admit to taking my virtue because he did not!"

Wolsey interrupted her before Chuck could press her on the matter. "You may step down, Sir Louis." He gestured for Blair to stand. "And now for the final witness; your Highness, would you do us the honour of gracing us with your version of events."

Blair stood and smiled, linking her hands around her enormous stomach. "Of course." She shot a look at the page and raised an eyebrow. "You need not warn me of my soul, page. I swear it on the lives of my unborn child that I will speak nothing but the truth. Sir Louis and I have known each other since we were children. I played with him in the barley fields and picked apples in his father's orchard. As did my sister." Blair glanced at Chuck. "I was outraged when King Francis insisted that I marry Prince Charles."

Chuck winced at her use of formality.

"I had harboured a secret passion for the Knight since he was married, and to find out that I had to surrender to the will of a man made me want to rebel. It is true that I offered my virtue to Sir Louis; at the time I wanted him to take it. I am thankful now that he did not. In return for deflowering me, he demanded that I declare my love for him. I could not lie, and so he said I was incapable of love. He left me that day as he found me – a virgin. I was a maid on my wedding night. The only thing that Louis and I exchanged were words and kisses; nothing more." She knelt on the floor of the hall and Chuck flinched to see such a beautiful woman kneeling on such a dirty floor. "I beseech you, my lord and husband, to confirm what I have already said. I was a maid on my wedding night, untouched by man, and you know that I would not risk the life of a child for vanity or pride."

Chuck stepped around the table and pulled Blair to her feet.

"I am not lying to you, Chuck. I _cannot_ lie to you. You know that I speak the truth."

"I know," Chuck replied softly. And then, turning to Wolsey, he said "My wife is an honest woman. She was a maid on our wedding night. I felt her barrier break when I entered her. You have done her a great injustice, Cardinal."

Wolsey stood and looked around desperately, his eyes falling on Louis. "If I have done her injustice, what of the witness? He did not lie."

"No, he did not lie," Blair responded hotly, "But I do believe that if the guards were to lift him up and shake him, gold coins from your treasury would fall from his pockets. I _did_ care for Louis, but not in the way you have suggested. You have tried to steal my honour, Cardinal, and almost stole the life of my child."

"What?!" Chuck shouted, staring worriedly at Blair. He pressed his palm to her forehead and his ear to her swollen stomach, smiling a little when he felt the reassuring thud of a kick against his head from within Blair's belly.

"That is another thing!" Wolsey cried indignantly. "If her Highness was truly a maid when she came to your bed, why is her pregnancy so advanced?! She appears to be ready for the birthing chamber!"

"Because her Highness is pregnant with twins," Ms Goodwyn spoke up, pulling back her hood and glaring at Wolsey. "It took me a while to realise it; she is so young, and this was her first pregnancy. Twins are rare in such cases. This is my professional opinion: before the end of the year, this court will be graced with the arrival of two royal babies."

"Twins?!" Chuck gasped, sweeping Blair up into his arms and twirling her around, as she giggled in delight. "_Two_ babies?!"

"Yes!" Blair said breathlessly, smiling as Chuck peppered her face with kisses. "Twins to make this country safe."

In the fuss and commotion, Wolsey attempted to slink away, but Blair stepped around Chuck and walked towards Wolsey. Chuck followed closely behind her, surrounded by guards that had seemingly materialized from nowhere. "Thomas Wolsey, you are hereby placed under arrest for plotting ideas against the royal family and on suspicion of high treason," Blair said in a calm, dark tone. "You will be taken to the tower, where you will await an _investigation _into your actions." She lowered her voice and fluttered her eyelashes becomingly. "Not that one will be necessary. You are a dead man," she muttered sweetly, her smile hiding her menace.

The soldiers grasped Wolsey by the arms and dragged him from the room.

Blair turned to Sir Louis. "And you? You were not worth my time then and you are not now. Get out of my sight. If I ever hear of your name again, I will personally ensure that you and your name are erased from history. Now _go."_

Chuck stared proudly at his wife. "You will make a formidable queen, my love."

"I know," Blair said with a resolute sigh, the gleam in her eyes showing her pleasure that Chuck was happy with her actions. "We must talk about your sister."

Chuck's expression darkened a fraction. "Serena? What has she done?"

Blair lowered her voice and drew Chuck away from the commotion of the court. "She is pregnant," Blair murmured. "I warned you."

"I know you did," Chuck replied quietly. "I trust that Nathaniel is the father?"

"Yes," Blair nodded. "Do not be angry with her."

Chuck shook his head and wrapped his arms around his wife. "I am rather proud that she did something so defiant. It says a lot for her character, though this could all go horribly wrong if we cannot persuade the King to allow Nathaniel to marry her."

"She will make a wonderful mother," Blair commented, leaning into his embrace.

"As will you."

* * *

><p>Bart coughed and spluttered in his chambers, lying forlornly in his urine soaked sheets. "Serv! Serv!" he cried desperately, but Wolsey had seen fit to aid the King's passing by dismissing his servants.<p>

Bart forced all his energy into one final plea for help. "Chuck!"

A passing maid heard his cry, and entered the room warily. She covered her mouth as the acrid scent of human waste reached her nostrils and she ran for help.

"Your Highness! Come quickly! Your father... he is ill!"

* * *

><p><strong>For those of you who didn't get it, Bart has a dementiaAlzheimer's type illness, and he has had a massive stroke. Since only Wolsey and a select few servants knew, he was able to take power into his own hands claiming it was the King's wish. Hope this chapter cleared a few qualms up!**

**PS – I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. It feels rushed and too much like a filler. However, I felt mean about keeping you all waiting for so long for an update. Hope you like it. **


	14. Chapter 14

Hope you're ready for fresh lemony goodness. I've also added a certain line that I've seen in the Gossip Girl Season 6 trailer...

* * *

><p><strong><em>19th<em>****_t_****_ July 1519 continued_**

As soon as Chuck and Blair and their extensive retinue had arrived at the King's rooms, Blair had insisted that all of the windows be opened and the bed changed immediately.

Bart was bathed and dressed in comfortable nightwear, and carried back to his bed. Chuck had not wanted to see his father in such a vulnerable state, so had waited until the cleaning up process had been completed before going in to see his father.

The king was huddled beneath the blankets, one half of his body twitching defiantly and the other lying limp and lifeless; whilst the left side of Bart's body had been weakened by the 'fire in his mind', the right side was still very much alive and kicking.

One side of his face was drooped and a nurse was discreetly wiping away the moisture that gathered in the slumped corner of Bart's mouth.

"Father," Chuck said quietly, "Father, it's me. Can you hear me?"

Bart's eyes flickered over to where Chuck was sitting. He struggled for a moment to say Chuck's name, and then gave up and nodded.

Blair's eyes filled with tears at the image of Bart's thin frame shivering beneath the layers of blankets.

Half of Bart's face lifted into a smile, and then he frowned. "Wol... Wol?"

"He has been imprisoned," Chuck replied instantly, angry at the treatment his father had received at the hands of the Lord Chancellor, "He will be hung drawn and quartered for his treachery."

Bart nodded again, satisfied with this answer. "Lily?" He asked, half of his face grinning when he managed to say his wife's entire name.

"She is safe, in the country," Blair reassured him, "We have sent a messenger to let her and your children know that it is safe to return. They are hidden away in one of my manors... I could not let Wolsey stand by and inflict suffering upon innocents and so I sent them away to a safe haven."

Bart half-smiled again at Blair, his eyes brimming. He reached out with his good arm and squeezed her hand in gratitude.

"Your Highness..." Blair began in a soft voice, "You are going to be a grandfather thrice over."

Bart's eyes settled on Blair's stomach and he nodded.

"No," Blair said, "Well, yes. Chuck and I are having twins, isn't that wonderful?"

"Thri... thrice?" Bart managed, his brows knitting together.

Blair and Chuck exchanged a glance. "Serena," Chuck explained cautiously. "Serena is with child, though I have been assured that the child's father is eager to marry her?"

"Who?!" Bart demanded in a thunderous tone that almost made Chuck question his earlier speech impairments.

"The Duke of Northumberland's eldest son," Chuck said with a sigh.

"No!" Bart hissed, "No! Flor! Flor!"

Patiently, Chuck shook his head. "We have to be logical here, Father. Serena is with child... We cannot expect the King of Spain to agree to a match with his son when Serena is pregnant with another man's child. Nathaniel is the only option."

"No!" Bart insisted. "No."

"She loves him, Bart," Blair murmured softly, sitting beside him on the bed. "It would be a love match, much like yours and Lily's. Please, your Highness, do not allow your grandchild to be born out of wedlock."

Bart narrowed his eyes and sighed. He narrowed one eye at Blair and scrutinized her face. He eventually gave one, petulant nod. "Soon!"

Blair beamed at him. "Yes, your Highness, I will begin preparations straight away. Serena is only a few-"

She was cut off by Bart holding a finger to his lips. "No. Wed."

"He says he will not hear any of the details concerning Serena's pregnancy until she and Nathaniel are married," Chuck pointed out with a smirk, letting out a bark of laughter when Blair smacked him on the chest.

She grabbed his hands suddenly and pressed them to either side of her stomach. "They're kicking," she breathed, "Both of them."

True enough, two distinct thuds could be felt on either side of her swollen belly, and Chuck's face lit up. "They are strong," he beamed, "Strong like their mother."

"Me!" Bart cried indignantly, lifting his good arm. "Me."

Blair smiled at her father in law and dutifully placed both of his hands on her belly. "Your first grandchildren, your Highness," she said with a smile, "They want to say 'hello' to their grandpapa."

Though Bart could not feel anything against his left palm, he grinned at Blair and lifted his right hand to cup her face. Her eyes brimmed with tears again and she covered his hand with hers. Bart held her gaze for a moment and he nodded. "Sorry," he said in a regretful voice, and Blair smiled sadly.

"Wolsey's actions were his own," Blair whispered, "The only one who should apologise is him. He will suffer for what he did to both of us."

...

Blair sat quietly beside Chuck as he stared out across the Palace pond from their favourite stone bench.

"I had no idea that my father's health had deteriorated to such a degree," Chuck murmured regretfully, sighing and shaking his head. "He is a mere shadow of the man he once was."

"It is not your fault," Blair replied, squeezing his hand, "You could not have known."

"But I could have been here!" Chuck stood up and began to pace, "I _should_ have been here... Nothing would have happened if I had been here to protect him, to protect _you_."

"Do not blame yourself," Blair said softly, "You could not have prevented anything from happening. It is no good dwelling on the things that one cannot change, Chuck. Your father has lived a full life, borne many children and changed this country for the better. You must not mourn for what is not yet lost."

Chuck turned to her and smiled a little. "You are very wise, my love."

"Yes," Blair agreed, her smirk showing him that she was teasing.

"I thank God that you are safe, Blair," Chuck said suddenly, kneeling before her and pressing his ear to her belly. "That _all_ of you are safe."

Blair bit her lip. "I was so frightened," she admitted, "I thought that... I thought that I had lost our babies."

Chuck said nothing, but tightened his arms around her in an encircling ring of protection.

"I want him dead," Blair went on, fury and malice in her eyes. "I want him to bleed and feel the pain that I felt when I thought I was going to lose everything." She stood up and ripped off her headdress and her hair fell in its wild curls around her shoulders. "I heard that... I heard that he was going to have me imprisoned in the tower until I gave birth to our child and take the child from me. He wanted to dissolve our marriage, to illegitimatize our babies, to have me labelled a whore and sent back to France in disgrace."

Chuck frowned as he realised the extent of her fear. She had shown none previously, but now that they were alone she was allowing him to see her true feelings. "He will not get away with it," he assured her, "But you must calm yourself for the sake of the children."

"Children which would not be here had he had his way!" Blair retorted angrily, running her hands through her mussed curls. "He tried to poison me, Chuck, did you know that? Had one of my maids not offered to taste my food before I, it would be me on my deathbed instead of her. Poor Annabelle," she murmured sadly, "She is near death, Chuck, and yet she is proud to have given her life in the place of mine. How can I be deserving of such a gift?" She turned to face him and tears swam in her eyes. "I can think of a million ways to kill that man, and yet a part of me wants him to live, to see your triumph when you are crowned King, to see our children's beautiful faces, to witness the glorious land that England will become when you are its ruler."

Chuck had not known that Wolsey had tried to have her poisoned, but reined in his temper for Blair's sake. As he had said, it would do her no good to get too overexcited.

"The Lord Chancellor has always had too much of a hold over this country," Blair said suddenly. "My father never had one."

"Blair," Chuck warned, "England has always had a Lord Chancellor."

Blair smirked. "Wolsey boasted about being richer than your entire family. He siphoned funds from religious houses and hid them away in his own pockets, funds that should have been deposited into the royal treasury. He stole from you, Chuck. He stole from your brothers and sisters and from your own _children. _Your father placed all of his trust in the Cardinal and look what happened – he overreached and committed dozens of counts of treason. He denied your father access to a physician, he kept me locked away in a room and tried to poison me, and still you insist that the Lord Chancellor is a necessity."

"What would you have me do?" Chuck asked her desperately, wringing his hands.

"Get rid of the position entirely."

Scoffing, Chuck shook his head. "England has always had a Lord Chancellor."

"You will be the King, Chuck, "Blair breathed sultrily, "One of the most powerful men in Europe. You don't need a man telling you how to exert your policies and live your life. If you do this... you will be remembered throughout the ages for redefining the government of this country."

"The nobles will never agree to it," Chuck protested weakly. "And the Church will be horrified."

"The nobles will not protest when you wed your sister to the son of the third most influential Duke in England. Northumberland has many friends, Chuck, Norfolk and Buckingham among them. You have many siblings – there are not enough royal children in this world to marry them all off to other countries and with the Church's position at the moment I believe that it would be unwise to allow any of your brothers and sisters to join it's corrupted ranks as of yet. I do not mean to sound so insensitive but royal children have been used to reinforce the strength of the crown for centuries. You must do what is best for England first and foremost. If that means getting rid of the Lord Chancellor position and then weakening the power of the Church, you must do it, even if you have to betroth your siblings to the children of nobles to do so."

"Blair..."

Blair shook her head vehemently. "No, Chuck. For too long I have let the decisions in my life be made for me by men without any input of my own. I am your wife and equal and you will value my opinions. We are both masters of manipulation – I may be your wife but you need me as your ally whether you like it or not."

Chuck pulled a face but he knew that she spoke the truth. He had seen the way that she had brought his father around to the marriage between Serena and Nathaniel, and truthfully he did not want his own wife working against him.

"You _will_ heed my advice," Blair stated confidently, "And in doing so you will rule this kingdom without difficulty. Behind every great man is a strong woman, whether it be his wife or his mother, and you have to appeal to that familial tie to be powerful. Men are swayed by the women in their lives whether they would admit it or not. Trust me. Please, Chuck? Trust me." Her voice had softened by the end and Chuck gazed lovingly at his wife.

"I trust you with my life," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the soft spot of skin behind her ear. "But you must trust me enough to know that the ultimate decision on any matter must be mine."

Blair smiled at her husband and cupped his cheek. "Of course."

* * *

><p><strong><em>23<em>****_rd_****_ July 1519_**

"... And my father agreed to this?" Serena asked sceptically, raising an eyebrow, placing a hand on her flat stomach. "He agreed to allow me to marry Nate?"

Blair groaned. "Yes."

Serena gazed at her for a moment more, studying her face for any hint of untruth or teasing. Then she squealed and flung herself into Blair's arms. "Thank you! You have made my greatest wish come true... Anything within my power to give I shall give, for I will never be able to repay you for this."

"Do not get overexcited," Blair said warningly, "Your father is still rather perturbed that you went behind his back. If it was not for his condition, Nathaniel would be imprisoned in the tower and you cast out to fend for yourself. Fortunately for you, the King seems to have mellowed in his illness."

Serena pulled a face. "It was the only way," she replied in a resolute voice, "I could not bear to be married to another man. I love him, Blair. I know that my actions were sinful and wrong, yet I do not regret the outcome. I am to marry the man I love and give him a child; what more could I ask for?"

"Forgiveness," Blair muttered, "Forgiveness for defying your father."

"I _had_ to," Serena whined, pulling at a thread, "I could not stop myself."

Blair sighed. "Better to marry than burn."

Serena raised an eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"Honestly, don't you read? Perhaps you should look up _Corinthians, 17.9,_ the Bible? Perhaps St Paul can talk sense into you, seeing as you refuse to listen to reason from us mere mortals."

Rolling her eyes, Serena linked her arm through Blair's. "Don't be so serious," the blonde said with a smile, "The pieces are finally falling into place. Everything is well."

Blair sighed and rested her hands on her swollen stomach. "For now."

* * *

><p><strong><em>2<em>****_nd_****_ August 1519_**

Tossing restlessly, Chuck finally gave in and rolled over, tightening his arms around Blair. He was lying behind her, one arm beneath her neck and the other around her waist, firmly cupping her stomach in his strong right hand. He blinked down at his beautiful sleeping wife and sighed.

Their pregnancy was a little over half way through, but the sheer volume of Blair's stomach meant that her back ached and she was already walking like a woman who was due within the month.

He had been surprised at how much he still desired Blair; her breasts were fuller, her eyes brighter, her hair was thicker and shinier and her face seemed to glow. She was more beautiful than she had ever been, something that Chuck didn't think was possible, but it was true.

Chuck leaned down and brushed a curl away from Blair's face, pressing a kiss to the pulse point on her neck.

Blair smiled in her sleep and thrust her bottom out, throwing a leg over Chuck to draw him closer to her. Chuck sucked in a breath as her rear end came into full contact with his pelvis and was unable to prevent the thrust of his hips against her.

He was already hard through scrutinizing her luscious curves, but Blair's utter dominance over him – even in her sleep – was enflaming his need further.

Chuck smirked and let his fingers stroke a path down her leg, stopping when he reached the hem of her nightgown.

Slowly but surely he began to pull up the material, his fingertips blazing a path of lust along her heated skin. Blair shifted in her sleep when the gown bunched around her belly and Chuck stilled, waiting until she had sighed and settled again.

Dipping his hands between her legs, Chuck smirked again when he felt the wetness that was already pooled there.

She was always ready for him, even in her sleep.

Chuck pulled up his own nightshirt and pressed his erection against her, holding her leg tightly against him.

Shuffling further down in the sheets, Chuck shifted so that the head of his length was brushing against her entrance. He hooked an arm under Blair's knee, spreading her legs, and slowly eased himself into her. His head fell down against her shoulder and he let out a breath.

Being sheathed in her heat was Chuck's heaven, and, if it was possible, he would remain there for the rest of his life.

Blair moaned in her sleep and pressed her hips back against him, tightening her fingers in the sheets.

Chuck began to thrust into her, slowly at first, though he picked up the pace when he felt Blair reach up and grip his neck, her nails leaving little crescent marks in his skin.

He hissed at the sensation and drilled his hips up against hers.

"Oh, God, Chuck!" Blair cried out, arching her back and squeezing her eyes closed. "Yes!"

Chuck lowered his right hand and cupped Blair's sex, his palm rubbing against her clit with every rough thrust.

He could feel her internal muscles begin to tighten and pressed his mouth to her neck, sucking and biting until he left a mark. Blair's moans bounced off of the walls and Chuck smirked against her skin, though it was quickly wiped away when he felt Blair's hand atop his own between her legs. She spread her middle and pointer finger around Chuck's length and Chuck groaned at the feeling of her fingers against his cock.

He thrust once, twice, and a third time, and Blair was screaming obscenities into the pillow whilst Chuck roared his pleasure into her hair.

Blair eventually opened her eyes and turned to look at Chuck, shuddering when his length twitched inside her.

"Do you realise how dangerous it is to wake a pregnant woman?"

Chuck laughed breathlessly and kissed the tip of her nose. "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all," Blair murmured with a smile. "Feel free to wake me up in that manner any time you please."

Chuck shifted a little and Blair moaned at the sensation. "Are you uncomfortable?" Chuck asked her immediately, and Blair raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly the opposite, actually." She squeezed her muscles around him and Chuck groaned. "Was there any particular reason that you decided to disturb my sleep?"

"Does a husband need a reason to make love to his wife?"

Blair shrugged. She knew that he was troubled, but she didn't particularly want to discuss it whilst they were partially naked and still attached. "Chuck?"

"Mmm?" Chuck replied drowsily, in spite of his fully awakened erection.

"Chuck."

Chuck grunted and nuzzled his face into her neck.

"Chuck!"

He petulantly opened one eye. "What?"

"Wake up," Blair demanded, her pregnancy hormones finally catching up with the rest of her. "And get that _thing_ out of me or use it! Don't just leave it there!"

"Mmm."

Blair sighed in frustration and began to move her hips, laughing breathlessly when Chuck suddenly thrust up into her.

Without detaching himself from her, Chuck twisted them around so that Blair's bottom was up in the air and her face was resting against the pillow.

"If my love wants me to _use it_, then use it I shall," he growled in her ear, rocking his hips against her.

Blair smirked against the pillow, moaning at the feel of Chuck's masterful hands cupping her heavy breasts, his fingers pulling at her nipples. "Oh, God."

He thrust roughly into her and threaded a hand into her hair, leaving one of her breasts unattended. The hand in her hair tightened and he forcibly arched Blair's back, though he was careful not to hurt her.

Blair moaned loudly at his rough treatment and smirked when Chuck realised that she had replaced his hand on her breast with her own.

"Fuck," he hissed, giving short sharp thrusts up into her wet heat.

"Oh, Chuck!" Blair shrieked, "Yes! Oh, God, yes!" And then she fell, over and over again, into the chasm of ecstasy, screaming his name into her pillow, barely registering the feeling of his fingers gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.

He thrust into her again and again, fighting off his own orgasm as wave after wave of pleasure erupted from within his beloved. And suddenly he could bear it no longer, and with one last thrust of his hips, Chuck was coming with her, prolonging her own enjoyment by twisting her clit beneath his fingers.

They collapsed in a sweaty, breathless heap onto the bed.

"Chuck?" Blair panted, turning to look at him. "Do. That. Again."

* * *

><p><strong><em>16<em>****_th_****_ August 1519_**

Much like her birthday festivities, Serena's wedding to Nate was a rather muted affair. Whilst the highest nobles in the country were in attendance, there were very few of them who actually knew of the reason for the sudden haste.

Serena was already two and a half months into her pregnancy and to leave it any later would risk her belly showing through her wedding gown.

Blair was the only guest present who was allowed to be seated whilst the couple said their vows before God, and though she had been rather unhappy to be singled out as the 'fat pregnant one', she was glad of Chuck's insistence when her ankles began to ache half way through the ceremony.

Chuck squeezed her shoulder and Blair smiled up at him, remembering their own wedding day with fondness.

"I do," Chuck mouthed, and Blair's eyes filled with tears.

"I do, too," she replied in a whisper, using his arm to pull herself to her feet when Nate walked Serena out of Westminster Abbey. She gave her sister-in-law a clumsy curtsey and smiled at her.

"I wish this had not happened under such circumstances," Chuck said quietly, and Blair squeezed his hand.

"This should have been a gay occasion, and they should be looking forward to their first night as man and wife, but they have already experienced that," Blair agreed, sighing as the children in her belly began to simultaneously kick.

Chuck was instantly pressing his hands to her stomach and back, feeling the kicks against his palm. "They are strong," he murmured softly, smiling as Blair rolled her eyes.

"So strong that they do not allow their mother to get any sleep, and they have not even been born yet," she grumbled, but smiled happily at his excitement.

She had been a little worried about how Chuck would react to the changes in her body and her drastic mood swings, but he seemed to be taking it all in his stride. In truth, she would even go as far as believing that he found her pregnant belly attractive, seeing it as a physical mark of himself on her.

At this thought, Blair rolled her eyes: men and their childlike possessiveness.

She was rather fed up of his mothering of her, but only when her mood struck her to see it as such.

Blair was really enjoying being pregnant. Well, other than her not being able to dance or embrace her husband without her humungous belly getting in the way.

Her musings had taken up the walk to the carriage and she sighed in the August heat.

"Do you ever wish that you could bathe in a cold pool outside?" she asked Chuck, leaning her head against his shoulder. "I long to soak in a cold pond as I used to; my father had a summer palace in the South of France and there was the most glorious natural little cove there, near the sea, and when he was feeling merry he would allow my sister and I to take our nurses down to the pool and swim in our shifts. It was all rather wonderful." Her voice had become wistful and sad, and she pressed her face into Chuck's tunic.

"I know of a place where we could go one day," Chuck said in a soft voice, "Though I do not think that now is the right time to visit it. You are heavily pregnant and you could catch cold."

"Of course not," Blair mumbled. "I was just thinking about the past." She sat up then and pulled on the neckline of her dress. "Your English summers are so stifling. How can you bear the heat? It is not so bad for you men; your tunics and breeches are made thinner for the summer weather, we ladies must suffer under layers of silks and velvets. In France, my sister and I would dress down to our shifts and wander her private gardens, often dipping our toes into the fountains. Of course, only Francis and my sister's attendants knew of it, but it gave us such a thrilling sense of freedom."

Chuck smiled mischievously. "I too have my own garden, Blair – with fountains."

Blair looked up and him. "Truthfully?"

"Yes," Chuck said with a smirk, "Though I doubt you could wander around in nought but your shift in your condition. Perhaps next year."

Blair smacked the back of her hand against his chest and sighed. "I love you."

"And I love you," Chuck replied with a smile, pressing his lips to her forehead.

* * *

><p><strong><em>6<em>****_th_****_ September 1519_**

"...So, what are you saying? I cannot simply will my body into going into labour!"

"Of course not, my lady," Ms Goodwyn answered quietly, "But there are ways to bring labour about."

Blair scoffed. "I doubt that."

"With all due respect, I have been delivering children for over twenty years... I am well versed in its practices. I have birthed many multiples, so you do not need to be afraid. You are in quite capable hands with me, your Highness."

"That is neither here nor there!" Blair cried, throwing the book she had been clutching into a corner of her chamber. "You cannot go against God's will! My children will come when they are ready!"

"Then your Highness will die," Ms Goodwyn said bluntly, finally realising that Blair would not see reason if she was not clear. "If you go to full term with your children, you are putting their lives at risk as well as your own. One birth is difficult enough on the mother; _two _in succession will weaken you perhaps beyond measure... Unless there is a way of inducing your labour so that your children have not had time to become as large as they could."

"How would you go about such a thing?" Blair muttered.

"There are potions that your Highness could drink, and, well," the midwife seemed to struggle for a moment, "We can place a pessary of hardened pig's-seed at the neck of your womb."

Blair raised an eyebrow."Pig seed?"

Chuck looked horrified but allowed the midwife to continue. "When a man reaches his pleasure, he releases his seed into the body of a woman. If we were to place the seed of a pig inside of you, we could indeed bring about your labour."

"That is disgusting!" Blair hissed, sitting down on Chuck's lap and pulling his arms around her. Chuck whispered a few words in her ear and she pulled a face. Turning back to Ms Goodwyn, Blair sighed. "And this is safe? You have done this before?"

"Yes, your Highness, and I can assure you that the pig's-seed pessary will only be used as an absolute last resort. We cannot allow your pregnancy to advance into its final month, for that is when a child does the majority of its growing."

Blair looked between her husband and the midwife for a moment and then threw her hands up in the air. "I shall do whatever is best for the babies."

"Good girl," Ms Goodwyn said with a nod. "I am almost certain that you shall have a natural and normal birth. You are young and virile and your children are strong."

Blair turned to Chuck and smiled. "Would my darling husband be so kind as to fetch me an apple and some watered wine?"

Chuck nodded and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "Anything for my wife."

She waited until he was safely out of earshot and then Blair bit her lip and approached the midwife, taking the woman's hands in her own. "If... If you have to cut them out of me to save them, you must do it. I will sign whatever document you wish, I will tell as many people as you like, but you must save the children at all costs. Their lives are worth more than mine. Promise me."

"My lady..."

"Promise me!" Blair cried in a desperate voice. "Chuck will tell you to save me, he will tell you that he loves me too much to lose me, but you must think of the children first. Are you listening? I may die even if the labour goes well so do not try to save me if the children will die. If the choice is between my life and theirs, you _must_ choose theirs."

Ms Goodwyn studied Blair's face for a moment and then nodded. "As my lady wishes."

"Do not let my children die, Ms Goodwyn," Blair pleaded with her, "I am begging you."

"I will not let your children die, my lady," Ms Goodwyn said quietly, "I promise."

* * *

><p><strong>This may end up being a little irrelevant to this story, but I just thought I'd remind everyone that the infant mortality rate in the 1500's was quite high. It was common for almost half of all children to die before their 5<strong>**th**** birthday. I've not entirely decided how this is going to affect my story from this point, but just in case I decide that infant mortality will play a further role (with either Chuck & Blair's babies or Serena's) I need you all to be aware that I'm just trying to be historically accurate.**

**Then again, I might just keep everything light hearted and fluffy and let everyone live. **

**I'm also not entirely sure when pessarys to induce labour came about, but I read somewhere that potions and stuff were used in Ancient Egypt to bring on labour, so I know the rest is accurate. **

**Hope you liked it! **


	15. Chapter 15

**_15_****_th_****_ October 1519_**

Blair sat up suddenly, clutching her swollen belly and gritting her teeth. She squeezed her eyes closed, fighting the urge to whimper at the contraction, and sighed when the pain abated. Carefully extracting herself from Chuck's arms, Blair twisted around to place her feet on the floor.

The three dogs in their baskets by the bed – her spaniels and Chuck's half-grown greyhound – began to growl softly, as if sensing that something was amiss with their beloved mistress. The three canines had become exceedingly protective of her as of late, never leaving her side, even whining at the door when she used the closet. "It's alright," she murmured soothingly, reaching down to scratch their ears, "Hush."

She shuffled to the edge of the bed, gripping the bedpost to aid her movement. Blair took a deep breath and pulled herself up; truly, it was a gargantuan effort to heave herself to her feet. She faltered, her knees buckling under the sudden weight of her belly, and took a moment to collect herself. Blair shook her head in disgust at her weakness and forced herself to cross the room, settling on the cushioned window seat and resting her head against the cool glass. She pressed her fist into her mouth when a second squeezing pain wracked through her body, desperately trying to remain as quiet as possible.

She'd become accustomed to false labour pains, often feeling them during the evening, and her midwife had assured her that this was completely normal, especially towards the end of pregnancy, and yet... There was something different about these pains, and it was a foreboding difference, a difference that both frightened and excited her. Her abdomen clenched again and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

Her eyes filled with tears and she leaned back against the window, taking slow calming breaths as the contraction began to ease off.

There was a sudden wetness between her thighs and Blair hiked up her sleep shift, gingerly withdrawing her hand and marvelling at the clear fluid on her fingers. She shook her head, valiantly trying to persuade herself that she was mistaken, that she _wasn't _in labour, it was too soon, over a month too soon, and that it was just an episode of incontinence...

As if to prove her wrong, her body contorted again, a low hiss escaping through her teeth.

"No," she whispered, a tear trailing down her cheek, "It's too soon. Not yet. Please."

Blair gazed over at her husband; Bart had abdicated his throne a little over a month ago, and had retired from court to the privacy of his own apartments. She and Chuck had been crowned a week before she began her lying-in, and she was now officially the Queen of England.

_"Your Majesty," she greeted, nodding respectfully to husband as her ladies-in-waiting curtseyed lowly, "Forgive us for not bowing to you, Sire. We are bedbound with your royal issue, as you know, and so are unable to show you the respect that you surely deserve. We are thrilled and utterly humbled that you have come to visit us in our lying in, such is your absolute grandeur and resplendence." A smirk quirked at the corner of her lips as Chuck gaped at her. She often did this – mocked him by being absolutely respectful – and it amused him to no end. "Surely you are much too important to be sitting inside on such a lovely autumn day?"_

_Chuck huffed, shaking his head and sitting down on the bed beside her. She lifted his arm and snuggled into his side, toying with the heavy gold chain of office that hung around his shoulders. "Stop it, Blair."_

_Blair smiled, hiding her face in his doublet. "Forgive us, your Majesty, we did not mean to offend. We pray that you do not punish us for our impudence."_

_"How are you, today?" he asked, pulling her more tightly against him with one hand and resting the other on her distended stomach. _

_"Bored."_

_"It isn't at all obvious," Chuck teased, kissing her forehead, "How are you keeping yourself amused, then, my beautiful Queen?"_

_Though she was used to his flattery, Blair could not withhold her blush. "By thinking of ways to torment you, my lord and husband," she replied coyly, trailing her fingers down her chest, "And imagining how things will be when I am no longer confined to my bed..."_

_Chuck groaned. "Blair, don't say things like that. Not when I can't touch you."_

_Blair bit her lip, glancing around to see what her ladies-in-waiting were doing. "Jennifer?" the blonde appeared in the entrance to her bedchamber. "Close the curtains around the bed. I want to sleep awhile." _

_"Yes, your Majesty." Jennifer dutifully did as she was asked, curtseying lowly before the King and Queen, and hiding her smile at Chuck's chagrined expression. _

_When they were truly isolated from the rest of the world, Blair licked her lips. "You may not be able to touch me, Charles, but __**I **__can still touch __**you**_**.**_"_

_Blair shuffled down the bed, settling on her knees against Chuck's lower legs. Reaching over for a small cushion, Blair tucked it between her belly and the bed. She raised an eyebrow, biting her lip as she tugged down his hose, eying his erection hungrily. Chuck opened his mouth to protest, but Blair shook her head. "They'll hear you," she whispered, gesturing to closed curtains._

_Trailing kisses up his thighs, Blair flicked her tongue against the head of his length, smirking against him when she felt his hands encase her shoulders. She took him slowly into her mouth, her small hand encasing what her lips could not. Her suction was slow and languid, and when Chuck realised that she was purposefully torturing him he threaded his fingers into her loose curls and thrust up against her, relishing in her small moan of pleasure. _

_Her eyes flashed up at him, and Chuck arched his back, emptying himself into her mouth, groaning appreciatively when she swallowed his essence. He was about to apologise for his surprising lack of stamina, when she sat up and pressed her hands to her belly. _

_"Feel," she urged him, beaming and reaching for his hand, "They are moving."_

_He touched his palm gently against her stomach, his eyes shining when he felt a dull thud against his hand. _

_"I have never known them to be so lively," Blair mused, crawling back up the bed and curling herself around him. She eyed him with amusement. "I have also never known you so quick to spend yourself, my lord."_

_"I haven't been able to make love to you for almost two weeks," Chuck muttered, avoiding her gaze, "And – in spite of constant encouragement – I am absolutely unwilling to take a mistress."_

_Blair stiffened. "Who is offering you such encouragement?"_

_"Lord Baizen, predictably. I am certain that he is doing it for his own gain rather than my enjoyment."_

_Blair smacked his chest. "Don't you __**dare**__, Charles. I am well aware that it is a King's prerogative to take a mistress, especially since I am in no fit state to fulfil your needs... But..."_

_"I won't," he reassured her softly, raising her chin so that he could look into her eyes. "I would never. Marriage vows matter to me, Blair." _

_"Oh, is that the only reason?" _

_He sighed. "I love you and I would never stray from you. Please, take my word for it."_

_"What about your 'needs'?" She asked, rolling her eyes and pouting._

_"You are more than enough to satisfy me."_

_Blair eyed him curiously. "You really mean it, don't you? My, you __**have **__changed." _

_"For the better, I would hope," Chuck murmured, his eyes closing. _

_"I thought you had come to visit me," Blair pointed out, frowning and snapping her fingers before his eyes. "Wake up. Entertain me. And, besides; aren't you supposed to be running the country?"_

_Chuck opened one eye. "I've left that to Norfolk for today. I'm in no mood to listen to the Privy Council squabbling over taxes." _

_"Ah, so you have sought out my company to squabble with me, instead? I am the Queen, after all."_

_"My beautiful Queen," Chuck agreed, "How magnificent you are." _

With this thought, Blair gave a resolute, answering nod. She was a Queen of England, and if she was in labour, she would give birth like a Queen, with dignity and control. She would not allow unnecessary fuss or noise, and she would most certainly insist on being obeyed.

Hauling herself to her feet, Blair stood up again, leaving her sleeping husband alone in their bed and entering her ante chamber, closing the curtain that divided the two rooms. She sat down heavily in an armchair, using her foot to nudge Jennifer awake.

Jennifer had taken to sleeping in a pallet before the fire, eager to be helpful should her heavily pregnant Queen need assistance during the night. The blonde was awake in an instant, half feeling ashamed that Blair had seen her in her sleep shift with her hair in disarray.

Blair smiled, seeing the girl's inner conflict and shaking her head dismissively. "I'm in labour," she whispered, "Go and fetch Lily and the midwife. Not a word to anyone else."

"Shouldn't I dress, your Majesty?" Jennifer replied quietly, biting her lip.

"There's no time. The pains are coming too fast and too close together. I want this done quietly and calmly, _no fuss._ Make sure you tell them that."

Jennifer nodded, scrambling to her feet. "Yes, your Majesty."

"Stop that," Blair complained irritably, "I don't feel very much like a Queen at the moment."

...

It didn't take long for Jennifer to fulfil her task, but by the time she had returned with Lily and the midwife in tow, Blair was writhing in pain, clenching her jaw so as not to make any noise. She scowled at the tray of food that Ms Goodwyn had brought with her.

"I'm not hungry," she muttered, shaking her head. "I just want this to be..." her words were stolen from her lips and she let out a wail of pain, leaning back as the midwife rushed to stand behind her, clenching her hands over Ms Goodwyn's balled fists. "_...Over."_

"Breathe, my lady," Ms Goodwyn urged, holding Blair upright the contraction continued. "We must wake the King..."

"No," Blair hissed vehemently, "Not yet. I cannot handle him fussing around me. This is stressful enough without him getting in the way."

Unbeknownst to a blissfully oblivious Chuck – who was indeed still sleeping in the bedchamber not twenty feet away – Blair's labour was progressing quickly. Her ante-chamber was a flurry of activity; there was Ms Goodwyn, Lily and Jennifer actively taking part in the labour, trying to keep Blair calm, and then three of Blair's other ladies-in-waiting hovered uselessly in the background.

Blair had demanded absolute calm and quiet, determined to get through her labour as peacefully as she was able. She was prepared for the worst – she'd already signed a legal document stating that Ms Goodwyn was obliged to think of the wellbeing of her children ahead of her own – and did not need unnecessary fussing to aggravate her further. The midwife wholeheartedly agreed with her sentiments, encouraging Blair to be empowered by her labour, to be in control of the situation, and Blair was thankful, not for the first time, for Ms Goodwyn's attitude. Blair had only wanted Jennifer, Lily and the midwife present, but Ms Goodwyn had insisted upon the presence of the other three ladies in case of an emergency.

Blair sat down again in the armchair, not protesting when the midwife rolled up her sleep shift and parted her legs. Ms Goodwyn rinsed her hands in a bowl of warm water and lye soap, clucking her tongue sympathetically as she examined Blair.

"Five fingers, my lady. It will not be a long birth, or a difficult one," the midwife stated, sitting back on her heels and recovering Blair's legs.

"I am never doing this again," Blair announced imperiously, her usually perfect English heavily accented with her native French, "_Non. Jamais plus_. In fact, I am not even doing it now. They will just have to stay in there."

Lily smiled and moved across the room, pulling Blair's hair out of her face and plaiting it down her back. "You won't remember the pain when they are in your arms."

Blair scoffed. "I doubt that."

Taking advantage of the lull between contractions, Ms Goodwyn gestured towards the table. "Your Majesty should eat something," she instructed, "You need your strength."

Blair glared at her. She'd already vomited four times since her pains had began – something that was common during labour, or so she had been told – and was loathe to do anything to incur another episode. Ms Goodwyn calmly met her gaze, nodding again towards the food to show that she was not at all fazed by Blair's temper. Grudgingly, Blair picked up a piece of bread and rolled her eyes, chewing and swallowing until the small roll was gone.

The next contraction, however, caused Blair to fall forwards out of the chair. She reached up and stuffed an apple into her mouth to muffle her moan of pain.

Her ladies leapt into action, manoeuvring her to the rug before the fire and murmuring their encouragements, but Blair shook her head again. "All of you... Stop! Just... let me... get... on... with... it." She breathed deeply, the pain abating, and nodded to the midwife. "I want to do it here." She gestured to the rug. "Put down the linens."

Ms Goodwyn hesitated. "My lady..."

"Am I not the Queen of England?" Blair hissed impetuously, "Am I not a Princess of France?" the midwife nodded, an uneasy expression on her aged face. "Then do as I command! I will give birth where I feel comfortable and _I. Choose. Here."_

Sighing in defeat, Ms Goodwyn turned to the ladies in waiting. "You need to make some space. Move the tables and the chairs, set down the linens, ready the hot water, stoke the fire."

"_And do not wake the King," _Blair added with a scowl, pointing a finger at the ladies. "Be _quiet_._"_

She wasn't sure what had made her decide on the rug in the fire; her bedchamber was prepared for the labour, and she _really _wanted to be agreeable, but she felt settled on the rug, felt more comfortable on her hands and knees with the floor beneath her.

Lily helped her to her feet and she sat down again in the arm chair, sighing and closing her eyes. Her arms encircled her belly as another contraction washed through her, letting out a silent scream, her face twisting into a grimace. "How did you do this so many times?" Blair asked her mother-in-law, trying and failing to focus her eyes through the pain.

Lily rubbed her back and smiled. "It's worth it."

"So you keep saying," Blair replied scathingly, gritting her teeth as she was hauled to her feet and deposited on the now-linen-covered rug. Ms Goodwyn knelt down behind her, murmuring an apology as she inspected Blair's nether regions.

"You are almost there, your Majesty," she said with a satisfied nod, "If I had not seen it happening, I would not have believed it to be true; it is rare for a first birthing to progress this quickly, especially with more than one babe in the womb."

...

"The head is crowning," Lily whispered supportively, "You're doing so well!" In truth, Lily was a little in-awe of the younger girl. She had managed to labour in relative quiet with minimal fuss, which was impressive considering how dangerous the situation was.

"Should I wake the King?" Jennifer asked, directing the question at the midwife rather than Blair.

"I'm still here," Blair spat out through contractions, "And I do not want my husband to see me like this. I will only end up throwing him into the fire if he tries to comfort me. This is his fault."

Ms Goodwyn remained impassive, ignoring Blair's dramatics. "Best to leave his Majesty abed," she advised, "This is women's business, and no doubt he would only receive the brunt of her Majesty's temper if he were present."

Lily shook her head at her step-son. "I just don't know how he's managed to sleep through all of this," she marvelled, "His wife is in the process of giving birth and he has no clue."

"Leave him be," Blair hissed, angry at everyone and everything. "Oh, _God... _this _hurts!"_

"Push, my lady," Ms Goodwyn encouraged, "One more, there's a good girl."

Blair stuffed her face into a cushion, using everything she had to push the child out of her body. She felt the stretch and the pull and the gush and then... _nothing_.

With her nether regions throbbing, her womb still contracting, Blair swivelled her head round, tears welling in her eyes. "Why isn't it crying? What's wrong? What is it?"

There was the sound of a slap and Blair started to sob in relief as the baby screamed in protest.

"A girl, your Majesty," Jennifer said, now crying herself, "A _healthy_ girl."

"Try to catch your breath, my lady," the midwife advised, still uneasy with the knowledge that complications with multiple children usually occurred around the time between births, "The next baby should be along soon."

Blair was part-way between laughing and crying, craning her neck when the baby was taken to be bathed and swaddled. "Where are you taking her? Bring her back," she demanded, wailing into the pillow again when another contraction claimed her body.

"Push, my lady," Ms Goodwyn encouraged, opening Blair's legs a little wider. "Come on, Blair, you've already done it once, you can do it again! You're a _Queen_!"

"I _can't_," Blair cried, too exhausted now to care about whether Chuck woke or not, "It _hurts!_" She felt a ghostly touch on her hand and looked to the side, sobbing openly when her mother's face swam before her vision. A part of her mind knew that she was delirious, knew that she was hallucinating, and yet she was comforted, reassured.

With a renewed sense of determination, Blair bore down with the next contraction, pushing as hard as she possibly could. This child came more quickly than the first, and Blair collapsed onto the bloodied linens when she felt it leave her body. She was relieved when the baby immediately started to cry, and resumed her helpless weeping.

"A boy!" Ms Goodwyn announced, passing the child to Lily.

Blair smiled tiredly, wincing at the ache in her lower body. "I did it. _Jumeaux_._Jumeauxen bonne santé."_

"Yes," Ms Goodwyn agreed, not understanding the actual French words but successfully guessing the meaning behind it, covering Blair's bare legs and sitting back to await the arrival of the two afterbirths. Whilst the experienced midwife had successfully birthed twins in the past, it was the afterbirth that usually caused problems, especially when the twins were of different genders.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, weary from the night's events. With a wry smile, Ms Goodwyn thought of the palace waking up to the knowledge of a new prince and princess, born in the dark, in secret, whilst the rest of the court slept on.

Blair groaned again in pain, and Ms Goodwyn stiffened. "What is it, my lady?"

"Something is happening," Blair moaned, "I can feel it." She had rolled over onto her back, her legs falling open, and Ms Goodwyn lifted the sheet that she had covered her with.

"My God," the midwife gasped, "There's another."

"A _third?!" _Blair cried, genuinely frightened. It was the first time all night that she had felt fear, and it was that thought that sobered her. Her previous state of calm had fully evaporated, and she was half-annoyed that she had completely lost control of the situation. "_Non, merci._ _J'aidéjà deux. Deux, c'estassez.''_

Ms Goodwyn leaned forwards, her hands ready to catch the child. It seemed that the passage of the other two had paved the way for this baby, and Blair wouldn't have to do much to give birth again.

"Just a gentle push," the midwife murmured, "This little one is ready to arrive."

_"Non, jene peux pas_," Blair moaned, "_Non."_

"Yes, you _can_," a rasping voice to her left encouraged softly, and Blair squeezed her eyes closed as Chuck grasped her hand.

"Your Majesty, it is not proper..." Ms Goodwyn began, but she trailed off when she saw Chuck's expression.

"I can assure you, Ms Goodwyn, that it is nothing that I haven't seen before," he stated, raising an eyebrow. "Blair is my wife, and I have no intention of letting her do this alone."

_"J'ai fait cavalier seul pendant les quatre dernières heures_," Blair muttered darkly, but she smiled tiredly when Chuck moved to sit behind her, opening his own legs and settling her between them, so that she was supported by his body.

"Perhaps you should cease your chastising of me in French and push, Blair."

When the next contraction arrived, Blair gave her all, pointedly digging her nails into Chuck's hands, continuing her sobbing when the third baby was successfully expelled from her womb.

"A boy," Chuck marvelled, "A son."

"_Notre deuxième fils,"_ Blair corrected, panting and grimacing as the afterbirth finally arrived.

"_Two _sons?"

Blair shook her head. "_Deuxfils et une fille, en fait. Triplés."_

Chuck gaped at her, smoothing her hair away from her forehead and averting his gaze as Ms Goodwyn started to clean up the mess between Blair's legs.

Having apparently gathered her thoughts enough to focus on speaking English again, Blair reached up to kiss Chuck's cheek. "Two boys and a girl," she repeated, "Triplets."

...

"It was too early," she whispered, her bottom lip trembling, "Much too early."

"Aye, they have come before their time," the midwife agreed, "But it doesn't seem to have done them any harm. They have taken their first feeds from their wet nurses well enough."

Blair winced as Chuck sat down on the bed beside her, leaning into him when he put his arm around her shoulder. "It still concerns me."

"Blair..."

"No, Chuck. You don't understand how much I have been worrying about this. They aren't even two hours old and already I love them unbearably. I won't be able to handle it if they... if they take ill... or.."

"They won't," he insisted, leaning back against the pillows. "Can you imagine how people will react when they discover that their Queen has given birth whilst they were sleeping?"

"Well, how did you react when you woke up and discovered me in the ante-chamber, part way through labour?" Blair replied teasingly, "I am sure it is not how you imagined your children being born."

"I cannot fathom how you managed to give birth twice before waking me," he agreed, tucking a dark curl behind her ear, "You are truly an incredible creature."

She pulled a face. "I did not want to alarm you. I saw how you reacted when Ms Goodwyn informed us of the dangers of multiple births... I didn't want to put you in a difficult position should the worst have happened." She lifted a finger and covered his lips. "Enough of this. I want to see my children."

Chuck gestured for the three babies to be brought over, his own eyes filling with tears when the two boys were placed in Blair's arms and the girl in his. "They are beautiful."

"They're so _small_," his wife breathed, "It is astounding."

"Small, and perfect," Chuck murmured, trailing a finger gently down his daughter's cheek. "She is the oldest, yes?"

Blair nodded, wincing again at the memory. "And the largest of the three, if memory serves."

From the corner of the room, a watchful Ms Goodwyn laughed. "Your Majesty is correct – your daughter was indeed the biggest child."

Blair glanced down at her sons, blinking hastily to contain her tears. "They are very alike," she commented, her eyes flickering over to the midwife for confirmation.

"It would seem that your two boys are identical twins, your Majesty," Ms Goodwyn confirmed.

"She is the image of you," Chuck whispered, nudging Blair and nodding at their daughter.

Blair shook her head. "She has your eyes. I caught a glimpse of them before they bathed her." As if on cue, the baby girl opened her eyes, peeking up at Chuck.

Chuck was surprised by how affected he was; he had known that he would love his children, but he did not expect to feel such devotion, such dedication, not so early in their lives at least. He could already see Blair in his daughter's features, in her porcelain skin, red lips, thick eyelashes, and the hint of high cheekbones beneath her adorable chubby cheeks.

He swallowed thickly, and Blair smiled softly at his expression. "I love them so much already. It is terrifying."

"Forgive the interruption, your Majesties," Ms Goodwyn said, "But do the little ones have names yet?"

Blair sighed, shifting the boys in her arms and gazing down at them adoringly. "Not yet."

...

**ANY IDEAS FOR NAMES?**

**AN – I have no excuses for how long it took me to update. It was just one thing after another for a time, and then when I actually felt able to write again I just couldn't. I'd lost the 'essence' of this story, and I didn't want to start writing again if I couldn't do it justice. Also, I'm really proud of this chapter. I'm training to be a midwife and I find it fascinating how practices have changed over the years. **

_Non_ – No

_Jamais plus_ – Never again

_Non, merci_ – No, thank you

_Jumeaux_ – Twins

_Jumeauxen bonne santé_– Healthy twins

_Non, jene peux pas_– No, I can't

_J'aidéjà deux. Deux, c'estassez_. – I have two already. Two is enough.

_Deuxfils et une fille, en fait._- Two sons and a daughter, actually.

_J'ai fait cavalier seul pendant les quatre dernières heures_ - I have been doing it alone for the past four hours.


End file.
